Excuses
by GraeLiars
Summary: Whenever they slept together either Rose or Scorpius had a perfectly justifiable reason for doing so.
1. Excuse 1: He Needed Me

_Ahoy hoy! This is the first in a four-parter about the deliciously destined couple. I don't really like this first bit, but it kinda sets up the rest of the story. PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP ON IT YET! I promise things will get more interesting, so please don't desert me just yet :)_

_This first part is from Rose's perspective, but it will shift between her and Scorpius between each chapter. _

_NOTE: when I say they're excuses for them sleeping together i mean _just sleeping_...for now ;)_

_I think that's about it. Please review - I would love to hear what you think. _

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><p><strong>Excuse 1: <em>He needed me…<em>**

Rose couldn't believe her luck. Or severe lack thereof. Not only was she made to attend the launch of the newest History of Magic exhibition being showcased in London, but she had to attend it with one of her least favourite work colleagues. On a Friday night.

Brilliant.

Rose had been listening to stories of her family members since she was born and, though she was far from unappreciative of them, they tended to grow a little old if told too many times. And in her 23 years, Rose had certainly heard them too much.

She had originally come here (involuntarily) as a representative of the Ministry with her colleague, but as soon as the organizers had found out she was attending she had been promoted to the rank of 'guest', plus one. It simply added insult to injury, as she was made to listen to a brief overview of the sufficiently intense tales of her loved ones that had been overtly dramatized to the point of being embarrassing. Really, something that had been contributed to by Reeta Skeeter was guaranteed to be utterly outrageous.

And to top off the evening, she had to attend with Scorpius Malfoy, said least favourite work colleague.

It wasn't that they were enemies; on the contrary, he had been a close friend of her cousin, Albus, since their third year in Hogwarts. Granted, he and Albus hadn't gotten along at first, and had in fact acted like archenemies from the beginning – the rivalry was initiated by Albus, not Malfoy much to everyone's amazement. Albus and Malfoy had been out to get each other on the Quidditch pitch and classes alike right from the beginning.

In third year they had had a full on brawl after Quidditch one Saturday, successfully landing both of them in detention with Professor Longbottom. To everyone's great amazement, they had walked out of their detention acting as if they were life long friends. They still had their Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry, but it was almost brotherly. Albus somehow seemed to bring out the funny, laid-back side of Malfoy, and the anonymous pranks that graced Hogwarts had grown more devious and cunning since Malfoy had joined Albus' group of friends.

Actually, now that she really thought about it, Rose had known him for almost half her life. And she still wouldn't consider him a friend.

Rose and Scorpius' relationship was always tense. He was often polite, greeting her not so much with warmth as respect. He congratulated her on achievements, but it always seemed hollow, like it was just a response he had been programmed to say. He would watch her, examine her expressions and movements with a look of such indifference that she didn't even know why he bothered. He would often mutter sharp little comments that struck her a little too harshly, but would then be an ideal gentlemen and, on occasion, make her laugh. He even bought her flowers for her birthday last year, but gave her such a look of disinterest when he delivered them to her that she didn't know what to think of it.

He had walked into her office at the Ministry, knocking politely before entering, bouquet in hand. He dropped the card on her desk and handed her the flowers.

"Happy Birthday Weasley," he said as she took the flowers, then left just as abruptly. He had barely made eye contact with her and his voice had been completely emotionless.

He hadn't even called her Rose.

It was utterly perplexing. Sure, she had given him a birthday present (a nice silk tie that she had never seen him wear) but she gave everyone presents. Malfoy, for a man as wealthy as he, never seemed to spend a sickle on anyone else.

So instead of the happy birthday she was supposed to have, she had an all together confusing one that left her in such a tired and ragged state that she hadn't even made it out to drinks with the girls. All because of some bloody flowers from the most indifferent man alive.

But his indifference and disinterest were not the most frustrating of the Malfoy's traits. No, the most insufferable thing that Malfoy had a habit of doing was smirking.

That infuriating smirk that he would shoot her when she commented on something. It was such an unreadable look that it disarmed her. She didn't know if that was the closest thing to a smile he could muster, after all he was a Malfoy, or whether he found her comment to be stupid or in someway self-incriminating. He frustrated her beyond belief. He seemed to be able to read her completely without even knowing her. She, on the other hand, couldn't even interpret whether his greeting was sincere or not.

Yes Scorpius Malfoy was her least favourite colleague because she did not like being around people that she couldn't read. Especially when they had blonde hair, grey eyes and a bad reputation. And he was on record as her plus one.

Her.

Plus.

One.

It was embarrassing.

So here she was, standing with Scorpius Malfoy, her plus one, as he nonchalantly (as always) handed her a glass of champagne. The only slightly satisfying point was that he seemed even more reluctant to be here than she did.

"Here you are Weasley," he said as he handed her the glass, before checking his silver pocket watch non-too discretely, "How long till this thing finishes anyway?"

"It hasn't even properly started yet," she replied quietly, looking around the room at all the artwork inspired by the events of the Great War. The majority was as appealing as any five foot 'unauthorized' portrait of your Uncle and Dad could be. And some of her mother were, well, bordering on distasteful (she highly doubted that her mother – _the_ Hermione Weasley – _ever_ wore a skirt that short or a shirt that low cut and…clingy). Rose was starting to regret having her name officially on the guest-list. This was humiliating.

She was pulled from her musings by an undignified snort from beside her. At first she thought it was a very _un-_Scorpius thing for him to do, and wondered what on Earth had made Scorpius Malfoy snort. Then she saw what he had been looking at. It was a huge seven-foot painting of her Uncle Harry fighting Voldemort.

Dressed in a suit of armor.

With doves flying behind him.

As he defended helpless school children.

On a unicorn.

Rose couldn't help but let out a burst of laughter, but quickly covered her mouth to avoid many strange looks that had been shot her way. She smiled apologetically at the people around her before looking back at the painting. It was atrocious. She let out a choked kind of a laugh and tried her best not to burst into a fit of giggles. She looked at Malfoy who had one eyebrow raised in a look that was especially reserved for things he thought were pathetic. She had to concur – this painting was pitiful.

"I wonder how much it costs," she said attempting to start a conversation with the man beside her. It worked.

"Why on Earth do you care?" he asked in both surprise and disgust, "You're not seriously considering buying _that_ are you?"

"I don't know," Rose shrugged and examined the look on Harry's' face again – pure determination, with a bit of cheap romance novel suave thrown in, "It would almost be worth its inevitably extravagant price tag just to see the look on my Uncle's face when he sees it."

Scorpius conceded and gave a smirk – a _smirk_ – and let out a snort/laugh sound. He simply took another sip of his champagne, shook his head once more at the painting and moved on. Rose stayed looking at it a moment longer. It was like a car crash – horrifying but strangely hypnotizing. Shaking herself from her musings, she moved on.

The majority of the rest of the exhibition was just as amusing and insulting. Pictures of Rose's mother in her father's arms whilst defending themselves from various Death Eaters – Rose was sure that her mother would be outraged by this, after all, Hermione Weasley was more than capable of looking after herself. Others of her various family members, including her grandparents, aunts and uncles, even Professor Longbottom were scattered through the display. She noted that there were none of the Malfoys anywhere to be seen. In fact, there wasn't anyone on Voldemort's side anywhere – they only featured in the background of portraits of Harry and the others.

At least that's what she thought, until the reach 'The Dark Room'.

Set up out the back through an overly dramatic cobweb curtain, 'The Dark Room' had been named as such because it was filled with portraits of those who fought with and for The Dark Lord. Though Voldemort himself rarely featured (people were very weary of presenting his image in public), there was an abundance of portraits of his Death Eaters. None of which were complimentary.

Rose passed one of Bellatrix Le Strange looking rightfully deranged, her eyes wide and crazy. Her fingers were long and contorted with sharp pointed nails at the ends. She stood in a field of fallen bodies and was laughing wildly. Rose could see why her father had banned the name 'Bellatrix' or 'Le Strange' being spoken in his house – she was a truly terrifying woman.

Rose walked past the rest, haphazardly looking at each one she passed, but really, there was only so many pictures of exaggeratedly demented people one could look at. She scanned the room for Malfoy and saw him standing a few paces up from her. She thought she might as well try to make conversation with him even if the arrogant sod did just smirk and grunt at her. It was mildly more stimulating than these stupid paintings.

As she approached, Rose noticed something strange about Malfoy – his face was paler than usual, his body had lost its casual elegance and was instead stiff and tense, and his eyes were fixed, unblinking, on the painting in front of him. She thought it strange – he'd done nothing but ridicule the ones in the other room, what could he find so perplexing in this one? Rose stopped next to him and tried not to be insulted when he didn't so much as acknowledge her presence. She rolled her eyes and, mid roll, suddenly realized why she had become invisible. She turned and faced the wall that Scorpius was transfixed on.

There, right in front of them, was an eight-foot portrait of the Malfoys.

Scorpius, obviously, wasn't included because he hadn't been born at the time of the war, but his father and grandparents were. Lucius Malfoy was in the center, holding a silver headed-cane with a hand that was just as animalistic as Bellatrix's. His eyes were wild, a maniacal smile painted across his face with pointed eyebrows furrowed. His nose had been exaggerated and his teeth were dripping blood. A woman, whom Rose assumed to be Narcissa Malfoy, stood next to him, her face largely shielded by hair platinum blonde hair that fell rampantly across her face. One of her eyes was visible through a gap in her hair, and it seemed to stare at Rose with such ferocity that it almost pierced her. Then, in the background, was Draco Malfoy, Scorpius' father, licking blood from his fingertips with his crazed eyes seemingly watching her. He looked almost skeletal, fragile, and quite pathetic as he lapped at the blood with desperation. The whole painting wasn't just disrespectful; it was horrifying. And Scorpius shouldn't have to see his parents and grandparents portrayed in such a way.

It was only then that it dawned on Rose - just as most of the paintings in the previous room were of her family, most of the portraits in this room were Scorpius' family. No wonder he couldn't take his eyes away.

Beside her Scorpius suddenly started pulling at the collar of his robes. At first it was subtle but quickly progressed to being a desperate attempt to rip it from him.

"Malfoy," Rose asked curiously, trying to avoid a scene, unlike the man beside her, "What are you -?"

His flustered muttering interrupted her as he thrust his glass of champagne into her hand before continuing to pull at his collar with both hands now.

"What?" she asked, leaning a little closer to the troubled man. He turned to look at her, fear and anger in his eyes as he began to physically rip his robes.

"I can't breathe!" he exclaimed before making a mad dash through the crowd and down a passageway. Some surrounding guests had followed Scorpius' movements before turning back to Rose. She smiled politely and excused herself, placing both her's and Scorpius' glasses onto the tray of a passing waiter. She then went after him, following the trail of frenzied guests he left behind him.

After winding in and out of various rooms, Rose found herself in a corridor lined with many doors, none of which she recognised. She continued on regardless – Malfoy had looked a little upset when he had run off like that, she shouldn't leave him out here on his own.

She began to ponder what had forced him to run off like that. Maybe he'd been cursed? Or maybe he was just being an arrogant prick that had a bad reaction to his undoubtedly expensive aftershave. Whatever was wrong with him, it gave her a reason to escape that bloody ridiculous exhibition.

She continued down the hallway until she heard the distinct sound of glass shattering. It came from the door to her left. She paused to try and determine whether she had actually heard what she thought she'd heard. The noise came again, followed by a loud thud – there was definitely something behind that door. And Rose had a very strong suspicion that it was Malfoy. She approached the door slowly and knocked tentatively. There was no reply.

"Malfoy?" she said softly when she knocked again. Then there was a scream; a guttural, pained scream from behind the door, followed by more crashing noises. This wasn't good.

"Malfoy!" she called through the door, but was only met by more screams and crashing sounds. She opened the door and burst into the room, just in time for a vase to be sent flying past her head and into the wall beside her. She got her best scowl on to berate him for what she was sure was nothing but a tantrum.

Then she saw him.

Standing over the table which she assumed had once housed the vase now in pieces on the ground beside her, stood the swelling back of Scorpius Malfoy, though one wouldn't know it to look at him.

He had ripped his robes and discarded them somewhere on the floor, scratch marks around his neck from where he had been desperately trying to free himself earlier. His rib cage rose and fell dramatically with each quick breath he took, scars from what she had hoped were simply pranks gone wrong littering his back. His hair was disheveled and falling all over his face, his muscles tense and bulging. All of him was completely rigid – his pale white skin seemed to be the only thing holding all of him together.

It was terrifying.

Another sudden shock of something ripped through him, forcing a painful scream to be elicited from deep in his throat. He threw his head into the air and let it out, grabbing the small side table and throwing it into the nearest wall in an attempt to release whatever it was that was taking over him.

"Scorpius!" Rose screamed, finally finding her voice but not being brave enough to take a step towards him.

He spun violently to face her, his eyes red and face contorted into an expression of pain and fear. Now that he turned, she could see that some of the scratches on his neck were very deep, blood still trickling down his chest, his fingertips smeared red with his own blood. He looked her in the eye, desperation filling his face.

"Make it stop!" he cried desperately, tears threatening to flow from his grey eyes, his entire body shaking.

"Make what stop?" she asked, pressed against the closed door in an attempt to distance herself from him.

"The PAIN!" he yelled doubling over and clutching his hands over his abdomen as he let out another guttural yell. Rose stepped towards him but faltered when he stood and screamed at the ceiling again.

"Well, where," she paused when he threw whatever he could reach – in this case a lamp – onto the floor. Rose shielded her eyes and turned away as he yelled again and clutched at his chest.

"Where does it hurt?" she asked, trying not to cry herself.

"EVERYWHERE!" he screamed as he looked at her again. He scratched at his neck again before throwing himself against the back wall – his back now facing Rose.

He threw his fists into the wall and cried out in pain uncontrollably. There was something inside of him that needed to get out. It was suffocating him. He couldn't stop it. It was everywhere. It was killing him.

He wasn't used to this – couldn't deal with this. All this…_emotion_. It was too much. He couldn't take it.

She knew what he wanted – he wanted her to flick her wrist and for everything to be ok. After everything she had seen her family go through, she knew this wasn't the case. She knew no words would help, and neither would any spell or Muggle medication. She looked at his rapidly rising and falling frame, his arms holding his body up against the wall.

She didn't know what came over her, or the thought processes that lead to her actions, but instead of just standing there watching Scorpius slowly fall apart, Rose walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around him.

His body stopped shaking and went rigid immediately as he held his breath, his stomach muscles retreating as far away from her hands as they could get. She simply held him a little tighter and laid her cheek against his back.

"What," his voice broke as he stuttered, "what are you doing?"

"Making it go away," she whispered quietly, her breath slowly passing over his skin. She tried her best not to be scared – for all she knew he was about to transform into some great hideous beast that would attack her instantly. Or he would just attack her as Scorpius Malfoy – most people would have found that scary enough.

To her surprise, and his as well she was sure, his shoulders began to relax and his breathing slowed. After a moment or two, Rose felt his body start to shake, but she could tell it wasn't with pent up anger or hate.

Hands still against the wall in front of him, head looking at the floor, Scorpius Malfoy started to cry. And Rose Weasley stood behind him the whole time, silently holding him tightly and forcing herself not to cry as well.

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><p>She couldn't be sure just how long they had been lying there for, but she had been quite certain she had fallen asleep after him.<p>

Sometime after he had been crying against the wall, Rose still wrapped around him, Scorpius had started to fall. His entire body had gone limp and he started to crumble. Somehow they had ended up lying down on a patch of ground not littered with broken wood or ceramics from all the things he had thrown, still connected by Rose's arms and Scorpius still struggling to maintain his steady breathing.

Once lying on the ground, she had made to remove herself from him, but his arms suddenly regained life and clutched her own to his torso as he took in a sharp breath. If she didn't know better, Rose might have considered it an almost desperate attempt to keep her close. And then it dawned on her -

He needed her.

Scorpius Malfoy needed her right there beside him, arms clutching him tightly, to get through whatever demons had suddenly arisen at the sight of the paintings. For once in her life he wasn't being indifferent and unreadable – he was totally vulnerable and unguarded.

And he needed her.

Rose conceded and laid back down behind him, arms still wrapped around him, and had fallen asleep soon after.

She vaguely remembered feeling him shift in her arms but no solid memory came to mind. It wasn't until she woke up to find the pale face of Scorpius Malfoy facing her own that she realized what had happened. It was also then that she registered the weight on her waist. Looking down, she saw his arm encircling her, his hand draped casually over her hip.

This was not the kind of position she wanted to be found in – holding Malfoy as he held her, sleeping peacefully on the floor of a room now in tatters from his outburst earlier.

The outburst.

Rose was sure that she had never heard anything more heart breaking than the sound of a grown man screaming in pain.

Then she had heard him cry.

Rose had decided that the sound of Scorpius Malfoy crying was not only heart-breaking but also, for some strange reason, one of the most terrifying sounds in the world. How could someone so cold and unaffected by anything ever feel that much to cry openly in front of her? The amount of pain and anger built up inside of him was too much for her to try and comprehend.

Her eyes fell on his face. He really was a very beautiful man. James and Albus had always picked on him for being a 'pretty boy' and she was well aware that he had had several female admirers throughout school (she was sure that at least every girl in her year level had fancied him at some point…except her of course) but it wasn't until now that she really bothered to look past all the hype and see that yes, he was a very attractive young man. 'Sex-on-legs' would probably be the term that Lily would use. Rose didn't have a doubt in her mind that the reason he suddenly became more attractive to her was because of seeing him lose control, in pain and crying. It made him more real – proved that, underneath everything, he really was human after all.

Remembering that this would look most suspicious to anyone that wandered into whatever this room was, Rose gently slipped her arm off his waist and went to remove his as well when she was stopped once more. The hand he had on her hip was now firmly placed against her lower back as he pulled her closer to him. He murmured some sort of a protest in his sleep as he held her even closer and tighter than before. Rose tried not to breathe too deeply as he settled, now seemingly content with their closer proximity. She couldn't see, because she couldn't move her head, but she could feel his legs entwined with her own, his right hand firmly pressed against the small of her back with his arm ensuring she didn't move, whilst his left hand somewhat held her right where it was awkwardly placed between them. He shifted his head and let out a deep breath, bringing their foreheads together.

This was beyond awkward. She was officially snuggling with an unconscious Scorpius Malfoy and, much to her great horror, was enjoying it ever so slightly.

This was just ridiculous.

Trying to focus her attention somewhere other than his face, she dropped her gaze to his – still bare – chest. Her eyes immediately fell on the marks on his neck and upper chest. Created by his own hand, she couldn't believe how deep they were. The blood had dried but was still smeared on his chest, some marks present on his stomach from where the blood had been transferred from his hands.

Using the hand he wasn't holding, she ghosted her fingers over the marks, following the blood droplets back to the original wounds. She felt her eyes starting to burn as she remembered the look in his eyes as he scratched at his neck – how brutally raw they appeared.

She had almost reached a particularly deep one when the body beside her suddenly took in a shallow intake of breath.

She looked up quickly to find two grey eyes staring at her, alert, awake and….something was wrong. He wasn't indifferent (_that_ look she knew from a mile away) but he showed an expression she didn't recognise briefly, which slowly morphed into apprehension and fear. She felt his thumb lightly brush over the hand he was holding. _Why was he even still holding her hand? _

As if aware of her thoughts, he halted his movements, and regained his indifferent composure. He gracefully removed his arm from around her, untangled their legs and pulled away from her. He dropped his gaze and rolled over before sitting up. Rose rolled over and also sat up while she stared at nothing in particular on the wall in front of her.

They both stood, Scorpius cursing under his breath when he saw his ripped robes and shirt on the floor in the corner. He repaired them quickly before pulling them on. Rose dusted some dirt and rubble off her skirt and readjusted her hair, doing all that she could not to allow any part of his anatomy to come into her line of vision.

When he was done, Scorpius stood tall and walked around to stand beside Rose, his gaze not falling on her once.

"Don't," he paused and swallowed, "Don't tell anyone."

He sounded almost ashamed and very unlike the confident, arrogant young man she knew him to be. Rose simply nodded, not looking at him for fear of blurting out something totally inappropriate.

They left the room silently, reached the front doors and left without another word to one another.

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><p>Next Monday at work, Rose couldn't help but notice that Scorpius wore the silk tie she had given him for his birthday last year. She smiled to herself and when she arrived at her desk she found a small note. It wasn't addressed to her, and it had no signature, but she recognized the impeccably neat cursive writing from the flowers she had received for her birthday. All it said was two words – <em>thank you<em>.

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><p><em>Please review :)<em>


	2. Excuse 2: She Asked Me To

_Hey hey! Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews – they make me happy :)_

_The rating change is due to swearing. If you are offended by the F-Bomb in any way shape or form you should probably abandon this story now.  
><em>

_Now for the apologies –_

_Firstly, updating – sorry it took me a while, I had a major case of writer's block and assessments and stuff, I'm sure you all know how it is. Anyways, it's here now, and that's what counts right? _

_Secondly,__this__ chapter __is__ long._ Really _long__ – __double __the__ last__ one. __Sorry!__ I__ didn__'__t__ mean__ for__ it__ to __get __so __long,__ it__ just __kind __of__ happened.__ Hope__ you__ still __like __it__ – __the __others __shouldn__'__t__ be__ quite __as__ mammoth._

_Lastly – it is going to take me quite a while to update because I have exams the next couple of weeks. So chapter 3 shouldn't be up until early December or so but I will update asap, promise _

_Right__,__ this __one __is __from __Scorpius__' __POV __and __is __a __little __lighter __than __the __last __one. __Hope __you __like __it __and __I __would __seriously _LOVE _to __hear/read __your __reviews __so __if __you __could __hit __that __little__ button __at __the __bottom __of __the __page __that __would __be __fantastic!__ Enjoy!_

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><p><strong>Excuse 2: <em>She <em>_Asked__ Me__ To__…_**

This night was destined to be a disaster.

Not only had the night been miserably boring (really, who _cared_ about a History of Herbology besides Neville Longbottom?) but whoever's grand idea it was to host the gathering (one could hardly call a gala dedicated to plants a 'party') in a courtyard under the stars had forgotten to think about a backup had the weather not agreed to remain calm. And, given that it was December, weather that agreed to stay calm for any length of time was highly unlikely.

So when it started bucketing with rain, everyone was left to their own defenses to get out of the courtyard – which, by this time, was virtually just mud – and back to the hotel that had been set up to accommodate the guests for the entirety of the weekend (that's right, an _entire __weekend_ of nothing but plants and Christmas _joy_). Had he mentioned the hotel was up a hill? Yes, they were down in some muddy ditch somewhere with a marquee and some floating candles. Really – who in their right minds thought that this was ever going to work?

So now his very best shoes were cemented in mud, which had effectively ruined them, his robes were half-covered in mud also, as were the bottom of his pants. He knew a quick spell would rid them of mud but Scorpius would always know what they had been through, and they just wouldn't feel _quite_ right ever again.

But that wasn't even the worst part. He had come with Albus – not _with_ with Albus, they arrived together so they wouldn't be alone with the plants. The point was, Albus was supposed to have to suffer through this with him. Instead, at some point during the night, Albus had somehow caught up with some pretty little blonde witch from the Department of International Magic Cooperation and decided that he had a chance and, therefore, no longer required Scorpius' anti-boredom banter. What was worse was that said blonde haired witch had come with a friend.

A female friend.

A _Weasley_ friend.

Rose Weasley, the woman he had been actively avoiding for long periods of time since his 'momentary loss of clarity' was standing right there in front of him, shocked and looking incredibly uneased. And then Albus, the _dear __fellow_, had decided to leave the both of them alone whilst he went and entertained his new female friend. Really, this was the most inconvenient night of his life. And Scorpius did detest inconveniences.

"Scorpius!" Albus had said as he slung his arm around the shoulders of the blonde girl, "I'm sure you and Rosie have got loads to talk about! How bout we leave you two alone and let you discuss things in private."

He winked as he walked (or rather swaggered off – he was well on his way of getting hammered, as one would when you were surrounded by plants) with the giggling girl beside him. Really, Scorpius should hex his balls off right now to ensure that even if he did have a chance with her he couldn't enjoy it. And what was with the insinuation of him and Rose needing to be _alone_? Apparently Albus, the git, had come up with the insane idea that Scorpius fancied Rose.

Rose.

Rose Weasley.

Honestly. Why would Scorpius ever even consider fancying Rose Bloody Weasley?

And how in Merlin's name had Albus picked up on it?

The boy who hadn't noticed his own little sister dating a boy two years ahead of her for five months had somehow discovered that he had _a__ thing_ for Rose.

Scorpius didn't fancy her – or at least he didn't think he did. He had fancied girls before and it had never been like this.

Previously he had wanted something physical – no strings attached. He wanted to be in her bed come midnight, and his own come morning. No breakfast, no talk about feelings, nothing. He wanted someone who was an excellent screw and disposable. That was just how it worked.

And he always fancied blondes. All the girls he had dated had had blonde hair. Long, short, curly, straight, it didn't matter. What did matter was that it was blonde. Some subconscious thing about keeping with the Malfoy tradition perhaps, but one thing was for sure – Scorpius Malfoy did not _fancy_ red heads. Ever.

And he never mixed business with pleasure. He didn't need to be able to have long, in depth conversations with a girl – after all; they never lasted long – so therefore their IQ was always negotiable. But it was never allowed to surpass his own. If there was one thing he found frightfully unattractive, it was a girl who could out smart, or even worse, out argue him. So brains were not a necessity. In fact things seemed to last longer if intellect was a field the girl was lacking in.

So why, when Albus knew his track record, would he ever figure out that Scorpius had started feeling _something_ for Rose?

In fact, screw Albus, how did Scorpius ever allow _himself_ to feel something for Rose Freakin Weasley?

She wasn't the type of girl who would be up for a 'friends with benefits' type of an arrangement (in fact, he didn't even know if she would be open to simply a 'friends' arrangement. It was quite disheartening really), as he knew that she liked stability. And stability meant commitment. And Scorpius Malfoy did not do commitment.

And her hair was completely wrong. He was sure that the particular hair colour that graced Rose Weasley's head didn't even have a name. 'Red' didn't seem to do it justice. It looked like someone had compact a fire engine into a curly, uncontrollable mane and stuck it on her scalp. It was more auburn than the rest of the Weasley clan but too bright to be deemed chestnut. And it was everywhere. Any time she pulled it back, he could practically see it struggling against its confines, wanting to burst free and explode all over her shoulders. And when she wore it out – like tonight for example – it would cascade down her back and finish in little ringlet type things that practically _begged_ him to pull them or twirl them around his fingers. But that was beside the point. The point was that it was red and Scorpius Malfoy did not do red.

And as far as intellect was concerned, it pained him greatly to know that she was the only other person in their year level that ever had a chance of beating his grades. Which she did on a regular basis much to his disgust. And the arguing. He could not recall any waking memory in which he and Rose had engaged in a conversation for more than a few minutes that did not end in some form of an argument. Whether it be subtle little comments during their discussions at work, or full on screaming matches in the Common Room (most of which were about absurd things like which pair of shoes Albus should wear), they always argued. It was fiery and invigorating and so fucking sexy that he was amazed he hadn't wanted to sleep with her earlier. All her sarcastic comments and witty comebacks that were so infuriating because they were just so fucking good he had nothing to do but give a dignified huff, pretend to play with his fingernails and walk away in what he hoped had been a nonchalant manner. So Scorpius Malfoy did not do brains.

So why did he want to do Rose Weasley so freaking badly?

No, that was a lie.

He could handle it if it wasn't a lie. After all, he was an excellent seducer and an infallible charmer; getting her to sleep with him wouldn't be a problem. And even if she didn't, he could just sleep with someone else and imagine it was her. If he was really pedantic he could even find a girl named Rose. He could just shag her, get it out of his system and be ready to go back to being Scorpius Malfoy, dashingly handsome specimen of perfection and bachelor extraordinaire.

But it _was_ a lie.

He didn't just want to _do_ Rose. Don't be mistaken, he did want to, very much so, but that wasn't where this _thing_ ended. He had dreams of her wrapping her arms around him like she did at the exhibition. Of her smiling at him like she did when Albus told a joke. Of walking into his bedroom to smell that nice fruity French perfume her mother had got her for her birthday last year (_how__ the __fuck__ did__ he __know __that?)_He could practically hear her laugh as he slept, and he wanted nothing more than to wake up and find Rose Weasley in bed next to him. He wanted to wake up with her in his arms, eat breakfast with her whilst having a meaningful conversation, even argue a little, and run his hands through that untamable mop of flaming red hair. So every morning when he woke and found the opposite side of his bed empty, he was left bitterly disappointed. He was truly sad that he went from having such vivid dreams of her being all _Rose-like_ that when he awoke to the vacancy it actually depressed him.

It was pathetic. And it had to stop.

So he had looked to the red-haired, committed, smart young lady in front of him and tried his damnedest to act normal. Which was especially hard to do considering she kept looking at him sideways and smiling politely absentmindedly twirling a bit of hair through her fingers which only made Scorpius internally beg he could do the same.

_No!__ Stop! __This__ is __Rose __Weasley. __Rose._ Weasley_.__ Off __limits.__ Not__ that __you__'__d __want __to __go __there __anyway. __But__ if__ you__ did,__which__ you __don__'__t,__you __couldn__'__t.__ You__'__d__ be __breaking __all__ the__ rules__ – __every__ last__ one__ of__ them.__ She __is __forbidden._

Way to make it sound sexier conscience.

"Malfoy?" he voice interrupted his thoughts and caused his defenses to immediately get back into place.

"What?" oh, he couldn't be smoother if he tried. She seemed taken aback by his abruptness but rather than apologize for it like any normal person would, he acted ignorant as always and took a sip of his wine, awaiting her answer.

"I asked if you'd like to go and look at anything in particular?" she said, immediately seeming self conscious under his gaze, and turning her attentions to the invisible dust on her dress which she brushed off haphazardly.

"There's not much to look at," he commented, looking at the various potted specimens, some of which looked like they could eat him if he got close enough. Scorpius was entirely disinterested, after all, he had quite a nice view of a flower he thought particularly alluring right here beside him.

For Merlin's Sake! He was going to Avada himself if he ever thought anything so hopeless and pathetic again in his life. After he hexed Albus' balls off for putting him in this situation.

He glanced back at Rose over the rim of his glass of Firewhiskey. She looked uncomfortable to say the least. She was very obviously avoiding making eye contact, and kept twirling the straw around her now empty drink. It was then that Scorpius had a rather interesting series of brainwaves.

Rose's drink was empty. She was tense. Alcohol relaxes people.

This could work.

He took her glass out of her hand quickly, startling her, as he spoke.

"I'll get you another – what were you drinking?"

She stuttered for a moment, clearly put off by his abrupt and somewhat intrusive behaviour, before she recovered.

"Um, just a soda –"

"I'll be right back," he walked off to the bar quickly, inconspicuously checking over his shoulder once he got there to make sure she hadn't moved. Fortunately she was still where he had left her, _un_fortunately so was that blasted Scamander kid. Lorcan? Lystander? He didn't know (nor did he care), but he felt something building within the depths of his stomach that was not at all pleasant. It was hot and boiling, filling his system, quickly spread from the depth of his stomach down to his toes and to the tips of his fingers. Scorpius didn't know why, but he had the sudden urge to throttle the Scamander brat with his bare hands. He knew he could simply hex the prick, but somehow using his two bare hands felt so much more _primal._ And one thing was for sure – this feeling filling Scorpius was animal.

He took the drinks (both alcoholic) from the barman with perhaps more force and hostility than was necessary and proceeded to walk quite quickly back to Rose as quickly as his legs could carry him without drawing too much attention (though some attention was warranted – he was Scorpius Malfoy after all). With a quick duck between two exceptionally more robust men from the Ministry he didn't recognize, Scorpius saw Rose smiling uncomfortably as the Scamander Stooge swayed – clearly he was intoxicated and Rose didn't like being in his company. Scorpius didn't like her being in his company either.

With a few more decidedly graceful movements and balance attained from years of Quidditch, Scorpius was finally on the home stretch, heading for his damsel…friend…acquaintance…work colleague. Yes, let's stick with work colleague.

He strode, glass in each hand and began to overhear snippets of conversation.

"So, Rose…" Scamander's words were slurred and his posture was drooping even more, "How bout we blow this joint?"

"No, I quite happy to stay here – but you feel free to leave if you like," she said, trying to sound as friendly as possible when sending a clear 'fuck off' message. Scorpius knew from some rather strange family holidays at the Potter residence that the Scamander's were family friends, and hence Rose probably didn't want things to get too out of control and embarrassing. Scorpius, however, wasn't friends with them – he barely knew them (couldn't tell the twins apart even), so he had no problem giving the prick a piece of his mind and a taste of his fist.

No. Must stay civilized in front of the lady. Maybe an inconvenient bout of diarrhea would do the trick. Just a little flick of his wand and this intruder would be spending the rest of the evening with the company of a toilet bowl. Scorpius liked that idea.

"Come _on_ Rose," the Scamander twat hiccuped and stepped a little closer, "I've got a room with a great view, you should come have a look."

"As nice as that sounds," he recognized that tone – it was polite sarcasm – he had encountered it often, "I'm actually here with someone else so I think I should really be getting back to them…"

"Who? I don't see anyone."

Scorpius could not have asked for a more perfect cue. He strode up beside Rose, handed her a drink and stood a lot closer to her than was probably appropriate for friends.

"Here you are Rose," he deepened his voice and tried not to notice how she flinched at the use of her first name. It was adorable really, "One glass of Ogden's finest."

Scorpius turned to face Scamander and raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Scamander just looked baffled.

"Malfoy?" he clearly wasn't sure if he should be addressing Scorpius or Rose. Scorpius answered regardless.

"Scamander," he said in a tone as flat and emotionless as physically possible, "Lorcan?"

"Lysander," he corrected, a certain edginess clear in his tone. Scorpius simply shrugged and smirked in a blatantly fake attempt at a sincere apology.

"Sorry – honestly I can't see the difference."

That was a bit of a lie. Scorpius knew they looked different, decidedly so, but he didn't know which one was which and, as established earlier, he really didn't give two hoots about which was which because they were not people he frequently conversed or associated with. As he was not looking to change that anytime soon, he didn't make the effort to commit _Lysander__'__s_ face and name to memory – he'd just guess again next time. If there was a next time. Oh Merlin he hoped not.

The Scamander git seemed angry and still a little confused. Scorpius couldn't see Rose's face, but he knew she was still tense and apparently uncomfortable, so he decided he had better start saving her soon.

"Well it's been a pleasure," he put as much sarcasm as physically possible into those five little words, "But Rose and myself were just heading off to examine some of the rare varieties of Dragon's Thorn so you'll have to excuse us."

"Right," was all Scamander said skeptically, turning to Rose as if to plead with her to come back to his room with him one more time. She smiled politely and said good night. When Scamander went to open his mouth, presumably to say something unintelligible and boring, Scorpius took the initiative to wrap his hand in Rose's in a surprisingly intimate gesture, entwining their fingers, before tugging her towards the opposite end of the marquee.

"Come on love," he said, leaning in to whisper to her and trying his damnedess not to get intoxicated by her delectable smell, "That rare European one you've been studying is just down here."

He tugged her away and was sure to shoot Scamander a smirk over his shoulder as he continued to lead her towards the far end of the marquee.

It wasn't until they had reached the very far end of the marquee, surrounded by no other human life-form, that Scorpius let go of her hand. She retracted it quickly and seemed even more nervous than before.

"Thank-you," she said softly, "For saving me from Lysander."

"Pleasure," he responded despondently, looking at some sort of Venus-fly-trap resembling plant whilst trying to memorize how her hand molded so naturally into his own.

They eventually found themselves conversing politely (Scorpius thought this may be directly linked with her having downed that glass of Firewhiskey at a surprisingly fast pace) and even joking a little with each other. Scorpius was thoroughly enjoying himself, and he got the feeling that Rose wasn't having such a bad time either.

They were once again discussing the tediousness of nights such as this one when things turned a little sour.

"Who's blooming idea was this anyway?" he asked with a smile as he looked at a particularly ugly form of fungus, Rose at his side, "This is even worse than that damned exhibition at the Ministry."

As soon as the words left his mouth he wished he could retract them. He _did__not_ want to bring up anything relating to his 'momentary loss of clarity' and, from the way she fell suddenly silent and tensed, he guessed she wasn't too keen on the idea either. After a minute of excruciatingly awkward silence, Scorpius decided he may as well break it.

"I'm sorry," he spoke softly, his voice low and almost foreign to his own ears, "You shouldn't have had to have seen that."

"Everybody loses it sometimes, Scorpius," something leapt up into his throat at the sound of her saying his name, "You're not even immune to that."

"I should be," he was ashamed. Malfoys didn't _lose __it_. Malfoys stayed in control at all times. Veneer was the key – he was allowed to fall apart all he liked on the inside, but he had to keep it inside. No one else was allowed to see, should be allowed to see. He was supposed to remain in control and with a presence of authority and superiority at all times. He should not lose his tempter or his composure, especially not in front of a woman. There was no acceptable reason for him to cry and should he dare shed a tear he could not, under any circumstances, do so in front of a _Weasley_.

The tension between them in the relatively empty end of the marquee (it was away from the bar and filled with ugly plants – not exactly party central) was palpable. It was almost suffocating. They stood, not looking at each other, not speaking and not moving for a further few minutes.

"It's getting late," her voice came out softly and unsure. He nodded in confirmation, unsure if she could even see him.

"I'll walk you back to your room," they stepped out of the marquee, ensuring they were standing together but far enough apart to only be able to see each other out of the corner of their eyes.

And then, just when Scorpius thought that nothing else could make this moment worse, it started to rain.

No, not rain. _Pour_.

And that was were Scorpius Malfoy found himself currently – staggering up a muddy embankment, being poured on with raindrops the size of quaffles, some of his best robes ruined with mud and water, and an equally wet and muddied Rose Weasley staggering along side him.

Who the fuck planned this damned thing anyway?

They eventually made their way to Rose's room and were about to open the door when they noticed the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the handle. Scorpius put two and two together – well, this could be interesting. Rose had the decency to knock, only for the door to be opened by a shirtless Albus carrying a bottle of champagne and two wine glasses.

"Albus!" Rose exclaimed, seemingly surprised. Scorpius wasn't.

"Rose," Albus said in a hushed tone with a quick peek over his shoulder, "Say, would you mind swapping rooms for the night? "

_What?_

Rose's words mirrored Scorpius' thoughts. Albus looked anxious – he clearly wanted to get rid of them both asap.

"The thing is that I've kinda got this things going here," he gestured to the darkness behind him with his head, "And it would be _fantastic_ if you could just swap rooms so Abigail and I won't be…ah…._disturbed_."

Rose was livid, that much was clear from her tensed up shoulders and fierce glare. However, she couldn't resist Albus' puppy-dog eyes, and he had them out in full force right now. He even stuck out his bottom lip a little in a way Scorpius thought looked pathetic – apparently girls seemed to think it was _adorable_ and _sensitive_. Twat.

The two of them watched Rose as her eye twitched slightly. A few very tense moments passed before she finally spoke.

"Well I'll need my bag," she said quietly, anger still present. Albus' face lit up as he kicked her bag (which he had relocated to beside the door) into the hall. Apparently he had the foresight to move it earlier.

"Thanks so much Rose! Night!"

And with that, the door was shut leaving Scorpius standing in the hallway with a very angry Rose. She huffed, picked up her bag and started trudging down the hall, luckily in the same direction a Scorpius and Albus' room. Well, Scorpius and Rose's room now.

That little thought set off a whole lot of delicious visions that were not at all appropriate given their relationship status. He really needed to destroy that reflex.

He ran to catch up to Rose and they walked (Rose stomped) silently back to their room. Upon arrival, Scorpius indicated Albus' room, which Rose stomped into begrudgingly and Scorpius went to his own.

"I'm going to have a shower!" she called, returning almost immediately carrying a small toiletries bag and walking towards the bathroom. The bathroom that just so happened to be off _his_ room (he always had the room closest to the bathroom). He was tempted to challenge her but, considering how angry she still was, he decided to just let her go ahead and shower. She slammed the door closed and left Scorpius in his room in silence. It wasn't until he heard the shower running that it hit him – the only thing that separated him from a naked Rose Weasley was a door.

Holy Shit.

Trying to force all thoughts of Rose and wetness and showers out of his head, Scorpius started to untie his shoes and wait patiently for the shower to be free – he _needed _to get clean. This damned mud had destroyed his robes, he didn't need them to destroy his skin as well.

After a torturous 20 minutes Rose reappeared, clearly somewhat calmer.

"Shower's free," she murmured quietly.

"Thanks –"

All thoughts flew from his head when Scorpius turned to face the bathroom door.

Rose Weasley.

In a towel.

And nothing else.

He needed to get out of this room. _Now._

He rushed past her and closed the door abruptly, turning the cold water up full blast and jumped in fully clothed. That was just plain old evil. Whoever thought Rose was a good little girl had clearly never shared a hotel room – and its bathroom – with her. Evil. Just plain old evil.

Scorpius looked down and noticed the water was brown, immediately being reminded of the dirt. Right. Clean, he needed to get clean. Now. He stripped himself of his robes, threw them onto the floor outside the shower and turned up the water to a less freezing temperature.

Once Scorpius was comfortably under the water of a warmer temperature, he began scrubbing the 'essence' the dirt, which he was sure had seeped through his ruined robes and into his skin. After five minutes of thorough scrubbing, there came a loud knock at the door.

"Malfoy!" Rose called from the other side, followed by something he didn't catch over the sound of the water.

"What?" he called back, turning the water down slightly.

"I need my bag!" she called, "I left it in there!"

"Can't it wait?" he went back to scrubbing – if he left this dirt essence too long it would permanently taint his skin.

"Malfoy!"

"I'll be five minutes!"

She muttered something that could have been 'selfish prat' before retreating from the door.

Twenty minutes later, Scorpius emerged from the shower, dried himself off and pulled on some boxers. He walked back into the adjoining bedroom to find Rose Weasley curled up on the bed and sleeping peacefully. In a towel.

Could this night get any crazier?

It went from one extreme (boring talk of plants) to the other (Rose Weasley wet and in a towel on _his_ bed). Merlin. It was like the whole world had gone bi-polar.

He let out a sigh and decided he had better do the chivalrous thing and put her to bed. She'd already made his pillow wet with her thick mane of _red_, so he decided that he'd let her sleep in _his_ bed, but if she stayed above the covers she would surely freeze. Scorpius felt completely within his rights to jut leave her there - serves her right for steeling a man's bed like that. But then she'd come to work on Monday with a cold, which would inevitably be passed on to him and everyone else in the office. And Scorpius did detest being sick. He had to put her under the covers; it would be detrimental to his health not to. And that is the only reason he cared.

He walked around the side of the bed to where Rose lay and tried to assess how he would do this. He needed to put her under the covers, but didn't want to risk….how should he put it?..._fondling_ her accidentally. After all, Rose Weasley waking up to find him – her least favourite colleague he was sure – feeling her up would not end well for him. He was envisaging much screaming, slapping, and the inevitable loss of his favourite appendage due to a particularly powerful hex she had mastered back in fourth year. Needless to say, he approached with greatest caution.

Scorpius edged closer to the bed and took a deep breath. He could do this. So what if she hexed his balls off? So what if she never wanted to see him again? So what if she refused to speak to him again? So what? It was no big deal.

Fucking Albus fucking Potter was going to fucking die.

He bent over her and moved to place his hands under her. Then he realized what he was looking at. Rose Weasley, not only in a towel, but looking so damned peaceful it made him feel fuzzy. She was always busy. Always worried. Always thinking. And now she was just lying there, breath steady, face tranquil, just dreaming. It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

At least it would have been had he been at all attracted to smart red-headed commitment-freaks who argued better than himself. But he wasn't. So he was indifferent. Totally indifferent. He didn't care the slightest bit about how her bare legs shone in the dim lighting and how there was just so much of them they seemed to go on forever. Or how her hair was splayed over the pillow in loose, wet ringlets that created a big red halo around her head. Or how her face was graced with the cutest little half a smile he had ever seen in his life he just wanted to kiss it in hopes of capturing it for himself. It was lucky he was so indifferent, because if he wasn't he would probably be finding it quite hard to resist the temptation to run his hands all over her. But he was indifferent. So he wasn't.

Did it suddenly rise by a few degrees or was it just him?

Pushing away all thoughts of Rose and towels and the effect gravity might have on that situation, Scorpius regained his composure and slipped his hands very delicately under an even more delicate Rose. He had successfully been able to place one arm under her body with the other under her legs, and had swung her left arm around his neck simply to get it out of the way. He shifted his weight, let out a deep breath, and cautiously raised her off the mattress and into his arms.

She stirred.

Oh Merlin. This was it. He said a quick but sincere good-bye to his balls; they had had some good times together, but this was the end. At least until he got to St Mungo's.

Scorpius froze and was about to list off an array of excuses and arguments for why he was holding her towel-clad body, and why he, himself was still only in his boxers when he stopped himself. Rose murmured something incoherent and twisted so she was facing his body. Head resting against the crook in his neck, arm still over his shoulders, the still unconscious Rose settled into his chest and let out a deep sigh. She rubbed her head against his shoulder and neck a few times and seemed to smell him a little before a smile appeared on her face.

Deciding he had better act quickly, Scorpius muttered "_Wingardium __Leviosa__'_ under his breath and watched as the covers folded back on themselves. He placed one knee on the mattress to allow himself to place Rose further towards the center of the bed instead of on the side with the wet pillow.

He leaned over and lowered her to the bed as gently as he could, her arm still draped across his shoulders and her head still resting against his body when he went to pull away. To Scorpius' great surprise, the arm around his neck tightened as she made something akin to a whimper. He froze again and stayed staring down at her, unsure of what, exactly, was happening. He pulled away again and got the same response. This time she muttered something coherent.

"No," she said defiantly albeit sleepily, "Stay."

Certain that this was either a dream or a very sick joke, Scorpius made to move remove her arm from around his neck. He took her by the hand and lifted her arm to allow his escape. It wasn't until he started edging away that he realized he was still holding her hand.

Or, more appropriately, she was holding his. And she wasn't letting go.

"Go back to sleep Rose," he whispered softly, hoping that the sound of his voice would be enough for her to realize that he was not whomever she was dreaming of. She simply took a tighter hold of his hand.

"Stay," she murmured again, sleep slowly pulling her under. Knowing she would be fast asleep again in a few moments, Scorpius began to gently pull his hand a little further away. Then she said something that would haunt him for a very long time.

"Scorpius…stay…"

He froze and stared at her. Did she really just say his name? That meant she knew it was him. Or she was dreaming of him at least.

He knew he should keep trying to pry his hand away from her. He knew that he should cover her up and sleep in the other room by himself. He knew that was what he should do, and that would have been exactly what he would have done had she not said his name.

But she did said his name.

It was no longer an empty plea spurred simply by sleep. It was a request. A personal request. Rose Weasley had just asked him to stay.

How could he say no?

Scorpius took the covers in his one free hand, climbed onto the mattress tentatively and pulled the blankets up over the both of them. He made a conscious effort to keep his distance; to just be close enough for her to know he was there, but not to physically feel him apart from the grip she still had on his hand.

Rose, it would appear, had other ideas.

As soon as he laid his head down on the (slightly damp) pillow, Rose snuggled up to him, freeing his hand only to throw her arm over him and splaying her dainty little fingers over his chest. She laid her head against his shoulder and let out a content sigh. Within moments Scorpius could feel her breathing slow, indicating she was back in a deep sleep again.

He knew this was bad. He knew that, come morning, she would probably hate him and the very unsteady friendship they had built over the years would come crumbling down. With this in mind, it would only make sense to say that this was probably going to be the last time he ever got the chance to share a bed with her and hold her close. And lets not even consider the likelihood of seeing her in a towel again.

So, like a man doomed for execution, Scorpius decided to enjoy this one last little pleasure before it was all lost. He held her closer, wrapping his arm around her. He leant down and kissed the top of her head with a mischievous little smile before releasing a deep sigh and closing his eyes.

This was his metaphorical last meal, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to enjoy it.

* * *

><p>Albus Potter had had a good night.<p>

He had convinced Scorpius to come with him to the Ministry function about plants or something, had met up with Abigail Longhorn – the blonde witch from International Magical Cooperation he had been 'bumping into' every day for the past three weeks – had managed to embarrass Scorpius by leaving him alone with Rose, and had then spent the rest of the night and much of the morning in the company of Abigail. The only thing that threatened to ruin his night was the sleeping arrangements, but he had successfully sorted that out too.

Yes, it had been a very good night for Albus, but he wasn't one to ditch his friends simply because he had woken up naked next to a particularly beautiful woman who was in a similar state of undress as himself. And this was the one time in history that he had gotten laid and Scorpius hadn't. So, naturally, he had to go and rub it in his face.

Using the key he had borrowed from Abigail, Albus let himself into the suite Rose and Scorpius had been staying in and realized straight away it was a perfect replica of the one he had just shared with Abigail. He noticed the doors to Rose's room were open. He knew it had to be Rose's because, after years of shared living, Albus knew that Scorpius always insisted on the bedroom closest to the bathroom. He thought he might as well go and say hello to his cousin, after all, he had all day to tease Scorpius, so he veered off course and headed to Rose's room. Albus was alarmed to find her bag packed in the corner and the bed completely untouched. But, knowing Rose, it wasn't unlike her to get up at a totally irrational hour to do something nowhere near as urgent as she thought it was. Knowing she was equally obsessed with cleanliness and having everything tidy, he didn't put it past her to make her bed in precise uniform manner before leaving either.

Albus left without a second thought and approached the closed double doors on the opposite side of the suite with a cocky grin plastered across his face. He placed his hands on the door handles, paused and rolled his shoulders as if preparing for some sort of ceremony. He counted to three before throwing the doors open.

"Good Morning Scorpi-ROSE?"

Albus gaped at the sight in front of him. Even with the limited light he could tell that lying on the bed in front of him was Scorpius and Rose. His best mate and his cousin. In bed together. Cuddling. Naked.

What the hell was happening?

"Albus?" Scorpius said in voice heavy from sleep and eyes barely open, "What the fuck are you doing?"

"What the fuck am _I_ doing?" Albus looked at him incredulously, "What the fuck are _you_ doing?"

"I _was_ sleeping," he yawned and closed his eyes as if wanting to go back to sleep.

"What the fuck are you doing with Rose?" Albus demanded in a voice at least half an octave higher than usual.

"Rose?" Scorpius sounded genuinely confused.

"Yes!" now he was getting angry – there was no way in hell Scorpius was getting away with having a one night stand with his cousin, "Rose!"

Albus pointed to the body Scorpius was holding (rather affectionately) against him.

"I know_that__'__s_Rose," he sighed, which turned into a yawn, "I'm not doing anything with her."

"Not doing-?" Albus ran a hand through his hair and rolled his eyes before turning back to his friend, "You're in bed with her!"

"Prime observational skills Albus – I commend you," he only used that much sarcasm when he was annoyed and trying to get rid of someone.

"Scorpius!" Albus said perhaps a little too loudly.

"Be quiet would you – you'll wake her."

And then the strangest thing happened. Scorpius looked down at Rose with hooded eyelids and smiled rather _sweetly_ as he tucked a rampant strand of red hair back behind her ear. She snuggled a little closer to him, while he smiled at her again and let out a little content kind of a sigh.

Albus couldn't help the confounded look that graced his features. And then everything became blindingly clear. He pointed an accusatory finger at Scorpius, shaking it without being able to communicate verbally. Scorpius looked back at him.

"What?" he asked in an irritated tone.

"You!" Albus gaped and spluttered, "You love Rose!"

Scorpius simply rolled his eyes and let out another yawn.

"Don't be daft, Albus," he sighed.

"You do!" he continued to shake his finger in a critical manner, "Since when do you cuddle! You don't! But this is different because you love her!"

"Seriously Albus," Scorpius closed his eyes pinched the top of his nose, "Fuck off."

"Admit it!"

Rose stirred in Scorpius' arms and snuggled a little closer to him. She let out a half a sigh and her brow furrowed. Albus glanced at Scorpius only to be met with a very angry pair of grey eyes.

"Who's that?" Rose asked sleepily, clearly not really awake.

"Albus," Scorpius murmured coldly, still glaring at him.

"What does he want?" she asked with no conviction as she made her self more comfortable against Scorpius.

"To yell at us," he replied, subconsciously stroking her hair.

"Can't he do that later?" she asked with a sigh as she drifted back off to sleep.

"I think he can," Scorpius raised an eyebrow at Albus, "Can't you Albi?"

Albus let out an undignified 'huff' before backing out of the room.

"This isn't over!" he whispered harshly as he shut the double doors again. Safely back out in the corridor and heading back to his own room, Albus' mind was still trying to process what exactly had just happened. Here's what he knew:

Scorpius and Rose may or may not have just slept together. Most likely 'may'.

Rose may or may not be in love with Scorpius. Most likely may.

And Scorpius was very obviously in love with Rose if he stuck around to cuddle her and stroke her hair.

_Stroke __her __hair_.

Who the fuck was sleeping with his cousin? Because it sure didn't seem like the Scorpius Malfoy he knew. Oh yes, Albus had many questions for his friend, all of which he was determined to get answers for.

It had been a peaceful 10 minutes before Rose began to stir again at Scorpius' side. He had tried to go back to sleep but couldn't quite find the peaceful calm he had before Albus had so rudely interrupted them ranting about him being in love with Rose. Really – Scorpius Malfoy did not fall in _love_. And he especially did not fall in love with girls like Rose Weasley. Not that there was anyone else who was especially like Rose. She really was one of a kind.

What the devil was in his hand?

Oh.

Rose's hair. He seemed to be stroking it.

What the hell was wrong with him?

His introspection was halted by Rose twisting against him and letting out a heavy sigh. It was clear that she was finally waking up. Well, this could be interesting. She let out a sort of incoherent murmur before she yawned. Scorpius decided that possibly the best approach would to act indifferently, after all, he was very good at that.

"Good Morning," he said simply, glancing down at her and awaiting the moment of realization to cross her face. And it was priceless.

As soon as he had spoken, Rose's eyes had shot open and her breathing halted as she took in her surroundings, too afraid to move just yet. She was staring at the bare chest still under her head and hands before looking up at the face that accompanied it. She found two grey eyes staring back at her with a funny look in them. Scorpius found the whole thing entirely amusing and decided to take pleasure in her discomfort.

"Sleep well, love?" he asked with a badly concealed smile. Before he could take his next breath Rose had ripped herself away from him, sheets clutched at her chest as she sat up across from him with a scared and confused look on her face.

"What," she asked as she looked around for some sort of clue as to what exactly had happened here, "What are we…? You…bed!"

She watched his face contort into a look of shock.

"You don't remember?" he asked with an eye brow raised before his entire face darkened into something much more dangerous – it was purely seductive, "Maybe I should remind you."

He moved towards her in an almost predatory manner. Rose let out a squeal and leapt a little further back on the bed – much more of this and there wouldn't be any more bed to back away on.

"No!" she replied quickly, holding out a hand to keep him back, "No, no, no, no, no! That won't be necessary."

She looked around for either a weapon or her clothes – either would be greatly appreciated at present.

"No?" he asked with in a confused tone, but the lusty look remained, "I must say I never thought I'd hear you say that, you seem to like saying yes a _lot_…"

"Scorpius!" she shrieked, now well and truly flustered, "I don't know what happened here last night, but I can assure you it didn't mean anything."

"That seems entirely implausible considering you don't remember anything," he picked at one of his perfect fingernails in an almost bored manner.

"I remember some things," she defended, hugging the blankets a little closer to her.

"Such as…" he raised an eyebrow and silently wondered if she remembered asking him to stay.

"I remember Albus and Abigail," she started, a look of determined concentration etched into her face, "And that you had to sleep in here instead."

"The term 'sleep' being used describe any activities partaken in a bed, I'm assuming," he smiled as she squirmed in horror and embarrassment.

"No," she said to herself, looking at the blankets whilst straining to remember last night's events, "No, no, no. There was no way I was _that_ drunk."

Something akin to a stabbing pain ripped into Scorpius' gut. She needed to be drunk – no, not just drunk, _'__that_ drunk' – to sleep with him? Seducing her was going to be harder than he thought. Scorpius pushed the little broken bit of his ego aside, allowed it to rebuild itself successfully and then continued.

"No, you weren't that drunk," he said, a wistful and all together mischievous look in his eyes, "Surely, if you were that drunk, you couldn't stretch your leg that high in the air and remain balanced on one foot while I…"

"SCORPIUS!" she shrieked, not wanting to hear where his delightful little story (fantasy?) was going.

"Yes, love?" he replied, a smarmy smirk painted across his features.

"Please," her voice was strained and she actually sounded very upset, "I don't know what happened here last night, but whatever it was, promise me you won't tell anyone about it."

She bit her lip in a way that made Scorpius want to kiss it better before adding, "Especially not Albus! There is no way you can tell Albus about this."

"Oh don't worry, I won't tell Albus," he watched as she physically relaxed, only to continue with a sideways smile, "I think he got a fairly accurate indication of events when he walked in on us, so telling him again would appear redundant."

"WHAT?" she screeched. Actually screeched.

"Oh yes," Scorpius picked at his fingernails and tried to ignore the furious blush covering his bed buddy for as far as the eye could see with her wearing that blanket, "We had a brief little visit from your cousin, but don't worry – he left quite quickly. You were completely oblivious at the time…"

"Oh Merlin! I can't believe I let myself do this!" she berated herself and looked as though she was very close to tears, "After everything….Albus will never talk to me again…"

Scorpius didn't like seeing her upset – it did strange things to his stomach and made his arms want to stretch out and wrap around her and hold her close and tell her everything would be ok and that he was here for her and…

_Wait. _

_What?_

He really needed to get that little voice in his head checked out – it was running away with itself and into very dangerous territory where big four letter words beginning with 'L' loomed ferociously close in the background. Definitely had to stop thinking things like that.

His introspection was halted when looked over to see Rose sniffling, doing her best not to cry in front of him. And he got that sinking feeling again. And Scorpius didn't like sinking.

"I can't believe I did this…" she said again, sniffling and rubbing her nose softly.

"You didn't."

Her eyes snapped up to his, and look of apprehension written all over her face. She obviously wasn't sure if he had just spoken or whether it was just some comforting little voice in her head.

"What?" she asked softly, voice edged with disbelief.

"What you think you did, with me," he shot her a smile, which seemed to surprise her momentarily, "You didn't. We didn't. It didn't happened."

"You mean…" her eyes lit up with relief (in fact she looked a little _too_ relieved for Scorpius' liking), "We didn't sleep together?"

"Sleep? Yes. Naughtiness? No."

"Oh thank Merlin!" she exploded into smiles and Scorpius forgot about his little bruised ego – there was something about her slightly crocked smile that made something inside of him sink again, but this time in a good way. She let out a relieved sort of laugh and covered her face in her hands, before remembering she was only wearing a blanket and clutched it with both hands.

He watched as she looked down at her attire then back to Scorpius with a confused sort of expression on her face. Confusion slowly slid into skepticism crossed with anger – he didn't like it much. He shuffled in the bed to find perhaps a way of sitting that made him feel a little braver. It didn't work.

"So if we didn't have sex…" she shouldn't have said that – now all he could think about was them having sex. It was fantastic. And distracting. He made a conscious effort not to start drooling.

"Then why, exactly, am I naked?" she asked, raising an eyebrow that clearly said he had better have a good explanation or he was about to lose something very close to his…thigh. Scorpius smiled devilishly and it seemed to disarm her. Perfect.

"_That_ was not my doing," he looked smugly pleased with himself as he reclined onto the abundance of pillows behind him, his hands clasped tightly behind his head.

"Well whose was it then?" she didn't sound impressed.

"Yours, " he saw the look of skepticism on her face and decided to elaborate, quickly explaining the events of the past night, though deciding to leave out her asking him to stay…for now. It was glorious to watch as her face went through 10 different shades of red at different points in the story. Rose was still a little defensive and apprehensive that he was telling the truth.

"Why didn't you just walk away or something?" she asked suspiciously, still embarrassed, "You could have just pulled your hand away from me."

"That I could," he conceded nodding knowingly, "But I am not one to refuse a lady."

He smirked at her baffled expression.

"Excuse me?" she asked, truly confused. Scorpius shrugged in an attempt to appear nonchalant when he was so close to laughing his pants off.

"I didn't leave because you didn't want me to," he smiled to himself and added, "Asked me not to in fact."

Rose didn't seem convinced. She rolled her eyes, crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow to mirror his own.

"Oh so in my barely conscious state I somehow managed to ask you to sleep with me?"

"Yes, although you didn't specify sleep," his voice lost some of it's playfulness as he remembered her speaking to him softly, "You simply asked me to stay."

She fell silent.

"What?" her voice was quiet as she looked at him apprehensively for the umpteenth time this morning. He gave her a genuine smile and shrugged again.

"You asked me to stay. So I did."

There was something unspoken in that statement that had thrown them both a little off guard. Scorpius didn't mean to come out sounding so…honest, but it had. And now it hung there between them, waiting for either of them to elaborate. Neither of them could though – they truthfully didn't know what to say to that. Scorpius had Albus' voice flying round in his head, accusing him of loving Rose. It wasn't true though. It was not true. It _could__ not_ be true. Scorpius Malfoy did not fall in love. And even if he did, he did not fall in love with Weasleys. No. They had shared the bed for one blooming night – one night with his arms wrapped around her did not suddenly change his entire philosophy when it came to women. Rose was incredible, but not _that_ incredible.

_Did he seriously just call her incredible?_

Wanting to escape his own thoughts for the sake of his sanity and manhood, Scorpius decided to break the tension by having a shower – nothing like a nice hot shower to clear the mind. He threw back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Well, I'm going to have a shower," he announced with a smile, diffusing the tension in the atmosphere to a more comfortable level, "Feel free to join me if you like."

He waggled his eyebrows over-enthusiastically to which Rose just raised an eyebrow again (with a ghost of a smile, he couldn't help but notice).

"I think I'll pass thanks," she seemed more relaxed which immediately made him more relaxed as he started searching for his socks.

"Your loss," he shot a smile over his shoulder to which she just playfully rolled her eyes again.

"You know you really are a sadist," she said, looking at him as he pulled on his recently located socks, "Lying to me like that just to see me suffer."

"_That_, my dear Weasley, was payback," he said smugly, standing up and stretching in a such a manner that she could ogle him if she wished (and let's face it – who wouldn't?)

"For what exactly?"

"For stealing my bed," he said with a smile as he walked towards the door with a bit of a spring in his step. He could see Rose trying not to smile as she looked at her hands, but she wasn't doing a very good job. He thought he could get in one more little line, just to rile her up. Because let's face it – that woman was _sexy_ when she was angry.

"Oh by the way Rose," he paused at the doorway to the bathroom, one hand on the door frame as he looked back at her, "That suits you."

Rose froze and stared at him strangely, the sincerity in his voice masking what she was sure was a snide comment or joke at her expense. When he simply looked at her in that same genuine way she was utterly confused.

"What suits me?" she managed to ask.

"The towel," he grinned cheekily at her as he disappeared into the bathroom before calling, "I think you should dress like that everyday. It would make work infinitely more enjoyable!"

He closed the door behind him just in time to deflect the pillow she had thrown at him.

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><p><em>Hooray!<em>_ You__ reached__ the__ end!__ Your prize for not falling asleep is a secret about the next chapter - I __can __tell __you __that __the __next __chapter __will __be __Rose__'__s __POV __and __will __be __called__ '_He told me he loved me…_' __I __bet__ you __can __see __where __that__'__s __going ;) __Anywho,__ please __review_


	3. Excuse 3: He Told Me He Loved Me

_Surprise! I know I said I wouldn't be uploading until early December but I really want to get this out there and for it to be finished. Even if it means some very late nights (or should I say early mornings?). Oh and to all you reviewers – I love you! So very, very much! Your words of encouragement make me happy._

_This chapter's another long one. A lot of it is dialogue though, so hopefully it's easy to get through. _

_**Warning**: And in the third chapter, Grae said 'Let there be smut!' and there was. Yeah…smut warning for this one, but I'm guessing that you all knew this was coming at some point in time given the title and general gist of things. It's in Rose's perspective and, therefore, is a little heavier than Scorpius'. Hope you enjoy it regardless._

_Disclaimer: realized I forgot this for the past two chapters, sorry! Well it goes for everything I write uploaded here – it's not mine, I wish it was so I wouldn't have to study for boring exams and would instead be in a nice isolated little cottage somewhere writing to my heart's content. But alas, it is not, so I am still stuck studying. _

_Enjoy! And you know the deal - review please _

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><p><strong>Excuse 3: <em>He <em>_told__ me __he __loved __me__…_**

She woke before he did. In fact she wasn't sure if she'd fallen asleep at all. For all she knew she had just been lying here, blanket clutched to her chest, staring at the ceiling for hours without ever actually going to sleep.

She didn't even know how she'd gotten here. Well, not here specifically - she could remember the past night/morning's events that led to her being thoroughly unclothed and breathless in blinding clarity. But how she had arrived at this particular moral dilemma bewildered her.

For where, along the past year, had it ever become appropriate for her to not only dream about sleeping with him, but _actually_ going home with him after work one night?

When exactly had she decided that she not only wanted to be his friend, but his lover?

When did she become so gullible that she believed everything he said?

And how, in the name of Merlin, had she ever allowed herself to be convinced she was in love with Scorpius Malfoy, so much so that she didn't stop him from using her?

No, Rose Weasley had no idea how she got here.

She knew things had been different between her and Scorpius – ever since the Christmas Herbology function he had looked at her differently. He often walked past with a little smile on his face that wasn't as much smug as it was mischievous. It was like he knew she had been up to no good, which she hadn't. So she had apparently asked him to stay and then proceeded to cuddle him – that was it. Nothing damnable surely. But he always gave her that look, the smile that he saved just for her, and she couldn't help but play along.

He would visit her everyday, often for no reason at all. He would just walk into her office, knocking curtly before doing so of course, and make some wayward remark that held no reference to anything. It would, of course, lead to banter – because you really couldn't call it arguing when they kept smiling at each other. And it would end in one of them saying 'This isn't over" and then waiting until tomorrow or, on occasion, the walk out of the Ministry to begin again. It always ended in laughter.

Then the lunches had begun. It was two weeks into January, when he had strolled in, stood in front of her desk with his hands in his pockets and started rocking backwards and forward on his heals.

"Something I can do for you, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked politely, well accomplished in this little game of theirs.

"Oh there are a great many things you could do for me, Miss Weasley," he winked at her with that little mischievous smile before continuing, "But right now you can get your coat and accompany me to lunch."

"Lunch?" Rose was utterly confused, "With you?"

"Do you not require the need to eat like regular humans, Miss. Weasley?" he asked in a thoroughly amused tone, a smirk finding its way across his features. It was strange – she used to hate that look, thought it was his worst quality. Now, however, it intrigued her. All the things he could say without saying anything at all – all he did was smirk and left it to her to decipher it's meaning. She used to hate that – the guesswork – but now she found it just added to their little game.

"Well, yes but –"

"Then grab your coat and hurry up – we've only fifty minutes left," he cut her off abruptly, looking at his immaculate silver pocket watch before looking back to her.

"As lovely as your company sounds," she said with a more than a hint of sarcasm and a smile, "I have lunch already, thank-you."

"You've had lunch already?" he sounded and looked confused.

"I'm about to," she replied with a smile.

"With who?" she had thought she had detected the softest suggestion of aggression in his tone but dismissed the thought as soon as it had entered her head.

"Myself."

"Yourself? Oh Rose, you can't go to a restaurant and have lunch _by__ yourself_, it's socially embarrassing – I must accompany you," he looked at his nails nonchalantly and made it sound like he was doing her a favour.

"I'm not going to a restaurant," she answered simply with a slight shrug of her shoulders. This totally confused Scorpius.

"I thought you said you were about to have lunch?" with his head cocked to the side, Rose couldn't help but think he looked suspiciously like a befuddled puppy.

"I am."

"Well where do you plan on eating?"

"Here"

There was a beat of silence and she watched the man in front of her as the meaning of her response sunk into his head.

"Here?" he finally spluttered, "At your desk?"

"Yes," she nodded once, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

"Oh Rose," his words were laced with as much sympathy as she had ever heard him use. Now she was confused and immediately got defensive.

"What?"

"That's even worse than eating out alone," he exclaimed in pity.

"I quite like eating at my desk thank-you," she said curtly in a tone that indicated she wanted to drop the subject. Scorpius, apparently, didn't pick up on that.

"No one _likes_ eating at their desk Rose," hearing him use her first name so casually disarmed her, "People just say they do because they aren't fortunate enough to be asked to lunch by some dashingly handsome young rogue."

"I'll have you know –"

"That you have been asked out to lunch by a dashingly handsome young rogue? Yes I know, and I must say, he's getting impatient," he tapped his watch once more to reiterate, "Now, get your coat."

"Scorpius," she said in her best 'Hermione Weasley Warning Tone'. Once again, he seemed immune.

"You're not getting out of this one, Weasley" he smiled victoriously as her, "Either you come voluntarily or I throw you over my shoulder and carry you out against your will. Both options are equally appealing to me."

"I would break your shoulder."

"You'd be as light as a feather," a genuine smile lit up his face as he watched her defenses start to crumble.

"Is that a compliment?" she cocked at eyebrow challengingly.

"No," he shrugged with a smirk, "I just happen to be incredibly strong as well as dashingly handsome."

"Not to mention modest."

"Precisely," he had nodded with that same cheeky grin he reserved especially for her again, "Now, may we depart?"

She rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically.

"Fine."

And that was how it had started. It was now April and they were still having lunch together at least every second day (sometimes more frequently).

She had mentioned after the first month that she couldn't keep this up – that it was much too expensive for her to allow. So he had offered to buy her meals, insisted that now she didn't have an excuse. Which was true – the cost really was just an excuse. In all honesty, she had started to reconsider their arrangement when she had overheard two ladies in the bathroom talking about how Scorpius had been stringing her along and that they were sure she was putting out.

_Putting__ out_.

That was the term they had used. She hated it – it made her sound like some two-bit floosy he could have picked up at some seedy bar, or even a street corner. The fact that he was now offering to buy her meals would just escalate the rumors. So she had told him that the lunches would have to end. But Scorpius, being a man unaccustomed to not getting what he wanted, had just brought food to her desk instead, although the thought of eating in the office was clearly gnawing away at him.

Rose had decided, after a week of having him eat with her at her desk and complain constantly whilst still managing to make her laugh, that she didn't care what those women or others like them thought. She liked spending time with Scorpius and she felt special when he took her out to lunch – and just this once, she was going to do something simply because she wanted to. So the lunches had continued, and she kept paying for her half.

Looking back now, she really should have listened to those ladies in the bathroom. After all, some two-bit floosy was exactly what she had become.

The rumors had only gotten worse after the Valentine's Day Incident, where he decided to have a joke at her expense.

It had been a whole new level of embarrassment. He had owled her across the floor, asking her to meet him in his office. She knew it would be something trivial but she did as bade regardless – as much as she told him otherwise, Rose thoroughly enjoyed their little mock arguments. So she had walked across the floor to his office, ever suspicious of his motives.

"You owled?" she asked from just beyond the threshold of his office. He glanced up at her and smiled cheekily.

"That was quick – couldn't wait to see me, hey Weasley?"

"Like ripping off a band aid Malfoy – get it over and done with quickly to avoid extensive pain," she smiled back at him brightly to which he just laughed.

"Touché, Weasley," he nodded and leant back in his chair, "I'll let you have that one."

"Thank-you," she bowed subtly before turning slightly more serious, "Now, what did you want me for?"

His eyes darkened and she immediately cursed herself for her choice of words.

"I want you for a great many things," he spoke in a tone that could only be described as a 'bedroom voice', "Some involving this desk, none involving your clothes."

She tried to repress the images bombarding her mind of what he was suggesting – Rose would be lying if she hadn't had very similar thoughts over the past few months.

"I could have you fired for sexual harassment for that," she crossed her arms and raised a challenging eyebrow.

"You'd miss me," his tone had somehow gotten deeper and his eyes even darker. Rose laughed it off – she couldn't count the amount of times they began a conversation that had somehow descended into blatant innuendo that, had anyone else in the office witnessed it, would have gotten them into a lot of trouble but they each found delightfully amusing.

"Seriously," her tone suggested she was anything but, "Why did you owl me?"

"What is the date today?" he asked her, all playfulness gone from his tone and face.

"Excuse me?" surely that couldn't be right.

"The date – what is it?" he asked again, apparently genuinely confused. As if he didn't know. There was no way in hell that Scorpius Malfoy did not know that today was Valentine's Day. He considered it holier than Christmas she was sure.

"February 14," she was waiting for some crack along the line of 'well that explains the singing telegram' or 'Congratulations! Your prize is a night of hot passionate sex with yours truly' (it was embarrassing how much she wanted him to say that second one) but it never came. He simply nodded and scribbled it on top of the letter he had been writing upon her arrival. With a flick of his wand, the message was gone. Rose continued to look at him, waiting for the next part of his joke or question, but was met only by his confused face.

"Did you require something Weasley?"

This wasn't right. Surely that wasn't it.

"You said you needed to see me about something," she felt as confused as he looked, "Planning on asking me any time soon?"

"I did," he looked at her strangely, "You answered – problem solved."

"You asked me over here to ask me what today's date was?" she felt frustrated and somewhat upset, "Something you could have easily found out by looking at your calendar or asking any other person in the office?"

Her tone suggested he should answer contrarily. He didn't.

"Yes," he nodded, a playful smile returning to his features, "But none of them could have said it quite as nicely as you, Weasley."

Rose sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes.

"Good day Malfoy," the anger was obvious in her tone as she turned on her heel and left briskly. She got half way between her office and his when she heard him call out to her to stop.

"Rose!" he never called her by her first name in public. _Never_. She turned to look at him for some form of explanation to find him not eight feet from where she stood. He strutted up to her with a smile plastered on his face that told her whatever was about to happen was not going to be enjoyable on her part. A fact that was most unsettling, especially considering he had managed to draw the attention of the entire floor. He stopped very close to her, forcing her to physically look up to remain eye contact. He pulled something from behind his back and revealed a stunningly vibrant, single red rose. Scorpius presented it to her gracefully and Rose couldn't help but notice how the entire office had fallen silent.

"Rose Weasley," he addressed her with a smile that was purely mischievous, "Will you be my Valentine?"

She stared at the rose being presented to her and was completely dumbstruck – what, in the name of Merlin, was going on? She must have been silent for longer than she realized. He let out a soft, throaty chuckle as he reached toward her hand with his.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said softly as he placed the rose in her hand.

"Hm?" she was dazed as she looked up at him to see him smiling devilishly at her.

"Enjoy your day Rose," he pecked her cheek softly which caused her to blush the most embarrassing shade of red imaginable before turning on his heal and returning to his office.

It wasn't until he called loudly over his shoulder, "I'll see you at lunch!" that she was pulled from her internal monologue trying to process how the world had gotten to such a state of disarray without her being aware of it till now. Everything was backwards.

And it had somehow escalated to this – her being used for sex by the man that she had been warned about since she was an eleven year old who didn't even know what sex was. Twelve long years of warnings and stories and she had still ended up being used by Scorpius Malfoy, serial man-slag.

No.

No it was different. _She _was different. He didn't think of her as just another one-night stand. He couldn't. Because…

Because he told her he loved her.

Yes, last night. Last night he told her he loved her. She remembered it surprisingly clearly considering how much she'd had to drink.

They had just finished a big case – something they had both been working on for longer than she cared to remember. But it was all finished now, and everything had turned out fine. Why she was still at the office at eight in the evening filing paperwork that could really wait to Monday she couldn't really say. The thought of being able to enjoy the weekend knowing that this God-awful case was one hundred percent finished and she'd never have to read another word about it appealed to her greatly. Although she hadn't pictured filing taking her quite this long. Nevertheless she was here and finally finished and was looking forward to going home for a long and relaxing bath.

There was a polite knock at the door. She looked up to see Scorpius leaning against the doorframe, his tie unknotted, the first few buttons of his shirt undone, waistcoat hanging open, and his hair slightly messier than usual.

Never, in her entire life, had Rose ever seen _anyone_ look so sexy.

"Honestly Weasley," he said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk playing on his lips, "Do you ever leave The Ministry?"

"Like you can talk," she shot him a smile as she put the last of the papers away, "You're still here too."

"That's because I've been waiting patiently for you to finish up here for the past three hours," he gave her a knowing look, but the smile was still painted blatantly across his features.

"And why would you be waiting for me, Mr. Malfoy?" she raised an eyebrow whilst she grabbed her bag, "Too scared to walk out the front doors by yourself?"

He rolled his eyes dramatically much like she was known to do and took a step or two into her office.

"No, I've been waiting for you so we can celebrate the end of the case!" he smiled jovially and genuinely in such a manner than Rose thought unfair to the female population – how could poor girls defend themselves against such an alluring look? Girls everywhere were entering a battle they weren't even aware of, and simply couldn't win. Men like Scorpius should have to walk around with a paper bag over their heads for fear of breaking too many hearts.

Rose forced herself out of her rampant, fatigue-induced thoughts and back to their conversation.

"I'm sorry Scorpius," she said with a tired smile, "I'm just not up to going out."

"Who said anything about going out?" his voice had lowered as he smiled again and raised an eyebrow. She raised an eyebrow back, silently asking him to elaborate.

"I have a bottle or two of Ogdon's finest and two glass in my office," he flashed a smirk, "Just for such an occasion."

Right there. That is the first opportunity Rose had to get out of there, to be sensible, and to avoid all this regret and guilt filling her now. Right then was when she should have said 'Thanks but no thanks, I need to go home'. But she didn't. Instead she had placed her bag back on her desk and smiled at him.

"Lead the way Mr. Malfoy."

He took her arm and looped it in his own before walking very happily back to his office. Once in his office, he had retrieved the bottle of Firewhiskey from a compartment of his desk that she wasn't even aware of (though she supposed that was the general idea) along with two glasses which he promptly filled with the amber liquid. They toasted to finishing that 'Cock of a Case' (his words, not hers, though she couldn't help but agree) and had tossed back the liquor like it was water.

Two hours later, she found herself without shoes, thoroughly buzzed, sitting in a seat across from Scorpius who had somehow lost his tie and waistcoat, talking about subjects that dared not approach when sober.

"So," she had tried her best not to sway or slur but knew she was being somewhat unsuccessful, "When are you going to get off your arse and ask Jocelyn out?"

He looked sincerely shocked – a confused frown forming across his forehead.

"Excuse me?" he asked with a smile.

"Well it's obvious you like her!" Rose rolled her eyes as she splashed a bit of her drink whilst making hand movements to exaggerate her point.

"What?" Scorpius subtly refilled both his and Rose's glasses, a thoroughly amused smile forming on his face.

"You heard me!" she looked dazedly at the ceiling, "_Everyone__'__s_ been talking about it."

"They have, have they?" he arched on of his perfect golden eyebrows and smiled in a way much too devilish to be deemed safe.

"Yep yep!" Rose confirmed, swiveling her chair a little, "So when are you going to ask her out?"

"Never."

"What!" her eyes came back to his quickly, causing her world to spin slightly.

"I'm not going to ask her out," he replied nonchalantly with a shrug.

"But why not?" she asked, slightly horrified and a little angry.

"Because I don't fancy her," he was looking her right in the eye which was getting very distracting – eyes shouldn't be allowed to be that silver. She leant in close as if confessing a secret, motioning for him to do the same.

"It's the red hair isn't it?" she asked with a smile, "Never anything but blondes for you, ey?"

"Actually," he leant a little closer and lowered his voice a fraction, causing it to get both quieter and deeper, "I've developed quite a liking towards red heads."

"Then why won't you go out with Jocelyn?" she looked a little confused and more than a little frustrated.

"Because," he said with a meaningful smile, "She's the wrong red head."

Rose let out a laugh and took another drink – this was another one of his distraction techniques he always used to change a subject that was a little too personal for his liking. He was very good at it, and had she not been trained to pick up on these sorts of things then she probably never would have. But she always noticed.

"Then you should really stop leading her on," she said as she looked back at him with a smile, "A girl could get the wrong idea."

"How am I leading her on?" he asked, resting his wrists on his knees and letting his hands fall so they touched her knees slightly. Rose tried not to notice.

"Well you flirt with her _constantly_ for all the world to see," she shifted in her chair that forced her skirt to slip a little higher up her thigh. Scorpius tried not to notice.

"I do not flirt with Jocelyn Huckleberry," he defended with a smirk.

"You do to!" Rose said as she took another slip, "It is _so_ obvious."

"Like you would know when I'm flirting with someone," he had lowered his voice again – it was still playful but a lot deeper and more alluring.

"I am trained to observe details Scorpius," man she loved saying his name.

"Really?" he raised his perfect eyebrow, "Well you haven't been taught very well."

Rose would have been offended had he not said it in that same tone – that playful little murmur that he often used when they would banter. He had leant forward a little too, still keeping eye contact, but drawing his face closer in an effort to throw her off guard. Rose simply accepted the challenge and leant closer too.

"Oh really?" this time she arched an eyebrow, "And what makes you think that?"

He leant in a little closer again and flashed an almost predatory smile.

"Because I have been flirting with you for the past four months and you don't seem to have noticed," he said in that low voice that made her tingle.

"Flirting? With me?" she asked, smiling at what she assumed was a joke.

"Shamelessly," he growled. _Growled_.

"And why would you do something like that?" Rose still didn't believe him; she knew his reputation too well to think otherwise. And besides, one could never trust a man that growled.

"I thought it would be quite obvious," his eyes were growing darker and his hand was now running along the inside of her knee tantalizingly slow.

"Well you seem to think that I'm incapable of picking up details so you might want to explain it," she took another sip of her Firewhiskey and tried very hard to suppress the delicious feeling she was getting from his fingers.

"Because, Rose…I like you," his voice was soft now and strangely sincere, "Quite a bit more than I probably should."

There was a beat during which they both just stared at each other, Rose's eyebrow raised skeptically.

"I don't believe you," she said defiantly, taking another swig of liquor.

"Why not?" he was mildly amused, but the way he kept watching her mouth was getting distracting.

"Well you haven't exactly done anything to prove it," she started gazing at the ceiling again. Had it always been so….high?

"Apart from my shameless flirting you mean?"

"You flirt shamelessly with everyone!" she exclaimed with a friendly smile.

"I could choose to find that offensive you know," one of his hands had left her knee, much to her displeasure, and was now bringing his glass back to his lips again.

"Care to deny it?" she challenged. He shifted and inclined his head in submission.

"Not exactly, but I'll have you know that I flirt extra hard with you."

Rose snorted and gave him a disbelieving look.

"Well that makes all the difference!"

"I'm being serious Rose," his face suggested as such. When did he get so handsome?

"No you're not," ignorance was bliss, she shut her eyes in an attempt not to be further distracted by his.

"Oh really?" his voice was low and alluring, barely sounding like much more than an enticing grumble. Using her voluntary blindness to his advantage, he stood from his seat and circled her chair, eyes crawling over her as he past.

"Yes," she sounded slightly breathier than she would have liked, but she was finding it increasingly difficult considering her heart rate was rising rapidly. It must be the Firewhiskey. Must be the Firewhiskey…

"And why wouldn't I be being serious?" he spoke directly into her ear as his hands found themselves delicately massaging her shoulders. She shuddered at the contact and took a sharp intake of breath whilst trying to form a coherent answer. Ok, so maybe it wasn't the Firewhiskey.

"Because, you're Scorpius Malfoy and I'm Rose Weasley," she finally said, head lolling to the front when his hands meandered their way tantalizingly slowly across the base of her neck and shoulders. He leant in close, his mouth resting against the shell of her ear.

"I'm failing to identify your argument," it was a breathy whisper that sent bolts of _something_ right down Rose's spine. How in the name of Merlin was he able to do that just by _talking_ to her?

"We just wouldn't work," she defended and was embarrassed to hear how breathy her voice was.

"Why not?"

"Because!"

"Because _why_, Rose?" he murmured huskily in her ear as he continued to massage her shoulders. His mouth lingered on her ear, kissing her ear lobe softly before moving his lips lower onto her neck.

"Because it would just be…" She couldn't think like this – when his mouth was pressed onto her naked skin and doing _that_ so damn well, she just couldn't comprehend anything.

"Fantastic?" he offered with another flick of his tongue across her ear lobe. She had to force out words now or she would probably start moaning.

"…Complicated!" she finally forced out, her toes curling involuntarily, "Terribly, terribly…complicated…"

"Come now Rose," he murmured, moving his head slowly to the opposite side of her neck to continue his slow but deliberate torture, "You can't pretend you haven't thought about it, of how we would be together…"

She swallowed audibly and bit her lip. She needed to get away from this – away from _him_ and his lips. They were going into very dangerous territory. Dangerous and delicious territory…

"Thinking and doing are very different things," she finally mumbled, only just managing to suppress a moan.

"So you _have_ thought about it!" Scorpius sounded extremely pleased and she felt him smirk against her neck. Oh hell. Could she dig a bigger hole for herself? Really?

She stayed silent in fear of admitting any further damnable evidence. His hands shifted from her shoulders down to the top of her arms where he subtly lifted her, inviting her to stand. She did so without hesitation, though she wasn't sure how stable her legs would be right now. The chair she had been sitting on was pushed aside and he came to stand directly behind her, his hands returning to her shoulders to massage them tenderly. She opened her eyes for the first time in minutes and licked her lips subconsciously.

"So tell me, Rose," he spoke quietly again, "In these dreams of yours, what are we doing?"

"I…." she suddenly felt very small and fragile, feeling him towering over her, "I can't…"

"Well let me share a little dream of mine then," his hands stopped on her shoulders to start moving slowly down her arms, his fingers leaving a trail of goose-bumps behind them, "We're working late one night at the office and everyone else has left…"

"Kind of like now?"

"_Exactly_ like now," damn he did that growling thing again, "And you walk into my office in that _fucking __sexy_ little black skirt of yours that is much too tight to be considered appropriate to be worn to work…."

"My skirt isn't that tight."

"Yes it is. It hugs every part of you and it makes me sick to my stomach to think of any one else except me watching you walk in it. The way that it _clings_," he slid his hands down her sides and over her hips to exemplify his point as his mouth came to rest just at the shell of her ear again, "You know not how it _tortures _me to see you in it and not be able to touch you."

She closed her eyes again and leant back into him, unable to keep herself standing without his help. She tried to focus on conversation, maybe that way she wouldn't be as distracted by that thing he was doing with his tongue on her neck. Seriously, _that_ should be illegal.

"So you…" she fumbled when she felt his hands begin sliding slowly back up her sides again, "You dream about me walking in…in my skirt…"

"Oh that's not where it ends Rose," she could hear the smirk in her voice as he moved his mouth back next to her ear again, "You walk into my office, in your skirt, and shut the door behind you."

He was deliberately taking his time – going slowly as his hands lazily made their way around her waist to pull her back closer to him, their hips meeting. She felt his hips subtly move against hers in torturously slow motions, causing her to lose her breath a little again.

"And then," his hands split directions, one moving down her left hip, the other moving up her right side, "You start yelling at me."

"Yelling at you?" she was honestly surprised.

"Yes," damn him again with the growling! "You start yelling at me and we get into a heated argument that leaves your face red and your chest heaving."

Her right hand gripped his thigh for extra stability, eyes still closed while a familiar and all together warming feeling began to spread through her.

She had a momentary sense of clarity, telling herself that this shouldn't be happening. Any sanity left her, however, as soon as he began to speak once more.

"You have no idea how sexy you look when you argue with me, Rose," his breath tickling her skin, "I can barely control myself. And in my dreams, I don't."

She started breathing slightly erratically at the thought of it all – he wanted her. Scorpius Malfoy wanted her. And she wanted him so much it almost hurt. Oh Merlin they were going to do this weren't they? His own breathing had quickened slightly as he spun her slowly, turning her round to face him.

"I take you on the desk," he said, his lips finding their way to her throat and kissing her softly as he pushed her back until her butt was resting on the edge of his desk, "And you beg me – _you __beg __me_ – to never stop."

She moaned in agreement, because she knew in that situation that was exactly what she would do. Rose was forced to place one arm across his shoulders, needing to rest it there to keep her upright because she knew her legs alone could no longer hold her up.

"But my favourite fantasy," he said, his mouth next to her ear again, his hips flush against her own, one of his hands fisted in her hair, and the other rubbing tantalizingly slow circles on her lower back, "Is you, naked, tangled in _my_ sheets, in _my _bed, in _my_ apartment. That's how I want you Rose."

He nipped her ear lobe and kissed the sensitive area just below her ear before continuing.

"I want you to be _mine_."

HOW COULD A GROWN HUMAN MALE GROWL LIKE A FREAKING BEAST? She honestly didn't know but found herself moaning in reply to both his words and the sensations she was getting as he gently rubbed himself against her hips. A few more moments of unrelenting touching by both parties had the pair practically panting, though Rose kept her eyes closed the whole time, somewhat afraid for all this to be real. Scorpius' voice, back to normal and sincere, broke through to her hazy mind.

"Come home with me Rose."

She froze. Going home made it real. She didn't know if she could handle this if it was real. If they crossed that line they could never go back. This, she now recognized, was the second chance she had to save herself an insurmountable amount of pain and humiliation.

"I don't know…" she said hesitantly, regaining her traitorous and fugitive sanity for a moment.

"Please?" his tone suggested that he knew he had already won. Rose felt sick to her stomach realising that was because he had.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," she gulped as his fingers ran through her hair, "We're friends."

"But we could be so much _more_ than just friends," he implored hopefully. She still wasn't convinced. At least she wasn't admitting she was.

"But I like being your friend," her hands said otherwise as they wound their way into his hair, "I don't want to lose this over some drunken fling."

His voice was soft and challenging when he next spoke.

"What if I told you I loved you? Would that make things different?"

She pulled back to look him in the eye, certain that this couldn't be happening. Did Scorpius Malfoy seriously just say '_love__'_? Like _love _love? To her?

"You love me?" she voiced her confusion and was ashamed by how hopeful she had sounded.

He simply smiled sincerely and leaned a closer again to whisper in her ear.

"Come home with me."

And she did.

She had nodded softly and had been answered by Scorpius' lips crashing into hers as his arms pulled her against him more firmly.

She fisted her hands in his hair more tightly and moaned as his tongue entered her mouth. One of his hands pulled her hips into his fiercely and ground against them – as if offering her a glimpse of what was to come later, although with notably less clothes. Rose groaned and pushed back against him, delighted by the strangled gasp she heard escape his lips in response. In fact they had barely even made it out of the office before jumping each other.

The first time they didn't even make it to a bed. They didn't even make it out of his Living Room where the fireplace was. She had flooed to his apartment from his office, Scorpius insisting she went first because he didn't want to be stood up, although Rose tried her very best to convince him that wasn't possible. He pushed her into the fireplace regardless. The last thing she remembered seeing before disappearing in a puff of smoke was Scorpius eying her with such hunger and need that she almost forgot how to breathe.

She had stumbled out of his fireplace and was looking around the very dimly lit lounge she had entered, doing her best not to stumble or trip too much. She was just admiring the a very expensive-looking lamp when an arm wrapped itself around her waist and the next thing she knew she had her back against a wall and Scorpius' lips on her own. She hadn't even heard him arrive. His hands had somehow removed her robes without her noticing, and one of his hands was fisted in her hair, the other groping her behind and lifting her slightly so she had to stand on her toes. The rest all became an alcohol-induced blur. Gasping, grinding, moaning – _lots_ of moaning. Oh God she was embarrassed.

Rose remembered very vividly when they had actually…did…_it__…_for the first time. She flushed and cringed just thinking about it. Not only had they not made it out of the Lounge, but they hadn't even made it out of their clothes. She remembered vaguely undoing his belt buckle and trying to undo the buttons on Scorpius' shirt but only got half way before he had lifted her off the floor entirely. In the back of her mind she recalled the sound of his belt hitting the floor, which she had assumed, meant that his pants were gone, which she had been proved right on only moments later. Her dress had been up round her waist and her undies were never removed, per se, merely _adjusted_. Truthfully, all he had done was tug the bottom of them aside before entering her, right there, against his Lounge room wall. Not that she had complained at the time. Instead she had just moaned and encouraged him by linking her feet around his hips and driving him further in.

But it was ok. Rose kept telling herself that she shouldn't feel dirty and ashamed – after all, he told her he loved her. He told her he loved her. He told her he loved her.

_Did he?_

He told her…

No.

He asked her if things would be different _if_ he told her he loved her. She has asked him if he did.

He didn't say yes.

He didn't.

He doesn't.

He doesn't love her.

He never said he did.

He didn't love her. It was all part of the game so he could claim ignorance. He put thoughts in her head but was assured to hold no responsibility if things went badly. He was a marvelous manipulator. And she let him control her.

How could she have ever been so stupid? How could she let him do this to her? How could she do this to herself? She could blame the Firewhiskey but she knew that it wasn't a decent excuse; she was witch for Merlin's sake – if she had wanted him to stop she could have done something about it. But she hadn't wanted it to stop, so instead she allowed him to fuck her against his wall, surely causing bruises on her back whilst doing so.

Rose so badly wanted to convince herself that there had been where it had ended - that after their impromptu romp against a wall, they had simply come in here and gone to sleep. She was even willing to let herself believe that they had maybe engaged in another tryst in his bed as they were now both entirely without clothing. But as she surveyed the surroundings she knew that even her mind wasn't going to be that gullible.

His room was a mess, and not just the usual type of 'boy' mess. It was destroyed. Every surface in his room – his dresser, his desk, the floor – was all covered in broken bits and pieces, and miscellaneous bits of paper that had somehow become dislodged last night. Even paintings on the wall were lop-sided, indicating that possibly Rose had been forced against a wall more than once. She let out a defeated sigh – she knew that wasn't right. She knew that last night she hadn't been _forced_ into anything. Last night she had convinced herself that this was all passionate love-making between to people who had been secretly pining for one another for months, years even. In reality however, where shit like that didn't happen, it was quite the opposite. As her surroundings proved, they had engaged in something that could only be described as a dominant and borderline-violent fuckfest that was of the same romantic nature as porn. And she'd allowed it to happen.

She was so humiliated.

Things kept coming back in flashes. She remembered, after the initial _incident_ against the wall, that she had collapsed onto him, letting her head fall onto his shoulders as her body recovered from what was a truly mind-blowing orgasm. She had been unable to stop smiling, or panting now that she thought about it, and seemed to think it was necessary for her to congratulate him.

"That," she had breathed heavily, her body still not recovered from what had been a purely _intense_ experience, "was amazing."

He had simply hummed his agreement, taking in her scent as he ran his nose along her neck and collarbone.

"Ready for round two?" he asked, kissing her collarbone before tightening his grip on her arse.

"Round two?" she had questioned, shocked and incredibly intrigued, "But we just finished."

She felt his chuckle, that deep throaty velvety chuckle, pass from his chest practically right into hers and it both terrified her and exhilarated her.

"Oh Weasley," he murmured low and seductively in her ear, "We have barely begun."

He nipped her ear which caused her to gasp loudly and cling to him even tighter. He groaned in her ear and kissed her neck once more before returning to her ear.

"And darling," he murmured breathily, "I think you should get rid of these…"

He had flicked the leg elastic on her underwear, causing her to squeal and flinch in his arms. She could feel him smirk against her neck again.

"After all," he kissed her neck seductively and murmured breathily again, "they'll only get in the way."

Rose cringed when she remembered what she did next.

She had smiled devilishly and unhooked her legs from around him. He let her down somewhat begrudgingly, looking at her with dark eyes and a smirk that could be described as little else but lustful. Rose remembered herself giggling and fumbling a little, the alcohol still causing a delicious inhibitions-free fog to blind her and loosen her movements. She had reached under her dress and shimmied her underwear down her legs before stepping out of them. He had somewhat matched her movement, stepping out of his pants which were around his ankles, leaving him completely naked from the waist down. She then hung her underpants on her finger and had slid away from him. His eyes had followed her like she was his prey, not only waiting but _wanting_ to pounce on her at any moment.

She had swaggered back towards his bedroom (which she had recognized by the very large and luxurious king-size bed she could spy through the partially open door to her left) the pair of underwear still dangling from her finger. He raised an eyebrow, and she raised one to match.

"These are very comfortable," she said referring to the silk and lace panties hanging from her finger as she came into contact with his bedroom door and pushed it open slightly, "And I think, _darling_, that you're going to have to give me a very good reason for parting with them."

"Is that so?" Scorpius murmured darkly, stalking towards her as he slowly undid the remaining buttons on his shirt.

"Yep," she hiccupped as she walked a little further into his room, "And I think that if you want to make sure these very comfortable undies stay off, you better come and claim them."

"Claim them?" he had reached the threshold of his room and was sure to close the doors behind him as he entered. Rose had stopped in the middle of his room, looking at the material hanging from her finger thoughtfully as if she were completely oblivious to her near-naked companion.

"That is what I just said," she looked at him with a look reminiscent of an unimpressed schoolteacher – it only made Scorpius more eager for action, "Are you not paying attention Mr. Malfoy?"

"Oh I am paying attention, Miss. Weasley," he let his shirt fall open and Rose tried her very hardest not to stare or drool, "But I must say I am a little distracted by your dress – perhaps I would be more attentive if you removed it."

"The dress is just like these," she shook the undies a little and gave a mischievous smile, "You have to claim them to make sure they stay off."

"Well in that case…"

And suddenly he was there, right in front of her, arm wrapping around her waist, lips crashing into hers, as he claimed her underwear easily. From then everything just came to her in flashes.

Scorpius heaving her dress over her head.

Rose pulling his shirt off him completely.

His hand running up her thigh.

Her hands raking through his hair.

His teeth digging into her neck.

Her fingernails clawing down his back.

The way he groaned when she locked her legs around him.

The way she moaned when he pulled her against him.

Him whispering in her ear, panting her name.

Her shallow breaths, how she begged him to never stop.

And now here they were – her completely awake and staring at the ceiling begging herself not to cry as he lay oblivious to her left, half hanging off the bed like he couldn't get far enough away from her.

This was not how Rose had wanted it.

She hadn't wanted them to come together in a spontaneous romp initiated by extreme amounts of alcohol. She had been a slut – nothing more than a cheap piece of arse he could have picked up from one of the seedy nightclubs he frequented. She hadn't wanted to be that, not to him. She didn't want him to think of her as some piece of meat, a bit of fun to entertain him for a night.

Rose had wanted Scorpius to look at her with desire and warmth, to hold her close and kiss her tenderly. She wanted him to whisper words of endearment in her ear, to tell her how he felt about her. She wanted to see his face smiling back at her every morning when she woke up, and she wanted that same image to be the last one she saw every night.

She wanted him to love her.

But he didn't. And after last night she knew he never would.

No matter how much she loved him.

Rose tried to blink away tears that threatened to fall. She felt humiliated, embarrassed, used, and devastated. How was she supposed to face him again? How was she supposed to go into work and face everyone else in the office?

Oh Merlin.

The office.

How did the office look when they left? Had they left bottles of Firewhiskey strewn across the floors? Were the notes on his desk still on his desk or were they all over the floor as well? Was his tie in his office? When had he taken it off? Was it before or after he had come to her office? Where were her shoes? They weren't on her feet now. They hadn't been when she flooed in – does that mean they're in the office somewhere too? Were they in her office, or his?

Oh Merlin. She had to get in there first thing in the morning to fix things up, she didn't care if it was a Saturday; she'd gone in on a Saturday before, she was sure no one would think it was strange. No one would think she was there to cover her tracks after she'd slept with Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy. Serial man-whore and well-renowned player Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.

What had she done?

Well, she'd just covered that – the naked man lying next to her with scratches down his back and hickies on his neck kind of explained that one (If that's what he looked like what in Merlin's name did _she_ look like?). But _why_ had she done it?

Why had she convinced herself it meant something to him?

_How_ had she convinced herself it meant something to him?

She was lonely, and had been lonely for a long time. Then suddenly she had someone flirt with her openly, and it wasn't just anyone – it was someone with a strong jaw, high cheekbones, beautiful grey eyes and a smile so alluring it had broken a thousand hearts – and she just couldn't stop herself. He looked at her with eyes that said that she meant something and she had just gotten lost in it. Lost in the fact that she was so close to feeling something real that she completely disregarded the facts and warning signs along the way. Facts like how he had never wanted her before he was plastered. Warning signs like him admitting to flirting openly with every other woman he saw. She had missed them, completely pushed them out of the way or had been so stubborn that she refused to see them. And now she had to pay for her ignorance.

So here she was, sheets clutched around her chest and tears falling from her eyes as she lay in Scorpius Malfoy's bed at his bachelor-pad apartment. She wiped the tears away defiantly and refused to let anymore fall over this whole situation. She had been stupid – that she could recognize – but she refused to let him or anybody else see that it affected her so much. She was a grown woman and she could deal with the consequences on her own.

Rose gathered the sheet around herself and began the search for her clothes, ignoring the burning ache in a large number of muscles in her body. She managed to find all of her clothes except her underwear. She remembered Scorpius taking them but she had been too preoccupied with imminent sex to have the piece of mind to notice where he had put them.

She searched all around the room but couldn't see them anywhere. She wandered over to the bed to see Scorpius lying face down, mouth open and arm hanging off the side. Rose had thought that they were lost for good until something caught her eye.

There, peaking out from the under the corner of Scorpius' pillow were her purple silk and black lace panties.

Here she was faced with an extreme predicament – did she risk waking him and having an awkward morning-after chat whereby he would not so discretely tell her to leave, or did she leave without the underwear and let _him_ have them for eternity? He could probably add them to a collection he had stored somewhere. She didn't want to just be 'purple-silk-with-black-lace-trimming girl', but her fear of talking to Scorpius and most likely bursting into tears far outweighed it. Right now she had to get out of there as soon as possible.

So she left him, and her undies, in his bed and walked into his ensuite to get changed (she did not want to risk him seeing her naked when they were both sober – _that_ would definitely be unbearable).

Once dressed (and going commando) she left his sheet on the end of his bed and walked over to the center of his bedroom. She took one more look at the room, held off the last few tears and told herself that this was just one of those life lessons that had to be learnt the hard way. She took a breath and apparated back to her apartment.

Where she promptly burst into tears on her doorstep.

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><p><em>Oh Rose. All those Granger morals just come crashing down :( Anyways, please review, I promise to love you forever if you do (but please no super-angry-psycho messages. I'm all for constructive criticism but just telling me it's crap without any indication of why is not helpful) Yeah, Chappy 4 hopefully up in the next week or two :)<br>_


	4. Excuse 4: She Didn't Believe Me

_The fourth and final installment is here! Thank-you all for your very kind reviews. I know that many of you got annoyed at Rose in the last one with her jumping to conclusions and going into super-panic mode – that's just the way I imagine Rose being. Hope you all like this one better, its back to Scorpius' POV so again, a little lighter than Chapters 1 and 3. _

_Disclaimer – these fantastic characters are sadly not my creations, but it doesn't mean I love them any less then my own _

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><p><strong>Excuse 4: <em>She <em>_didn__'__t__ believe __me__…_**

Scorpius had been having the most amazing dream.

He had been in his bed, much like he was now. He had been naked, much like he was now. Only there was something deliciously different. He had been holding a woman in his arms. But not just holding her, he had been on top of her, moving inside of her. She was moaning, crying out for him as she held him closer. He had obeyed her commands, gripped her tightly and repeated her name over and over. She had run her fingers through his hair, scratching her nails along his scalp. He had bitten her neck and drove in harder. Then he had run his hands through her hair.

Her red hair.

Her red curly, bushy, _everywhere_ hair.

And she had looked up at him with those eyes.

Those blue eyes.

Those blue, dark, lust-filled eyes that looked only at him.

And she had cried out his name – _Scorpius_.

And he had ground out hers – _Rose_.

Yes. Scorpius Malfoy was having a stunningly realistic sex dream about him and Rose Weasley. This dream wouldn't have been anything special – after all, he had been dreaming about being in very similar situations with Rose for the better part of eight months now – except he knew that this dream was different. This dream was different because it wasn't a dream. The images flooding through his mind, the voice ringing in his ears, the feeling burned into his fingertips weren't things he had imagined – they were things he had experienced.

Scorpius Malfoy was currently basking in the afterglow and he was loving it. After hours of the hottest foreplay (well, months if you count the bantering and shameless flirting on both their parts) and sex of his life with the most incredible woman he had ever met, he was now reliving the experience from moan to precious moan.

Scorpius had decided, somewhere between her insanely sexy underwear-related teasing and throwing her onto his mattress, that his imagination was pathetic. He used to pride himself on it, especially when it came to conjuring delicious circumstances for him to envisage when alone (like, say, in the shower), but last night he was proven otherwise. For there was no perceivable way that Scorpius' mind could have ever come to imagine anything as sexy as Rose Weasley in the flesh. The feel of her thighs wrapped around his when she was close to the edge, that _thing_ she did with her lips that should be counted as an Unforgivable for the way it so quickly unmade him. Not to mention all those little sounds that he had never noticed before during sex (maybe they'd never been there – maybe this was exclusive to Rose. _And__ now__ exclusive __to __him_), and the way her hair felt running through his fingers. He had never pictured _that_ look in her eyes, something that he couldn't find words to describe efficiently. It was just Rose. She was invigorating.

And exhausting. They had officially _done__ the __deed_ three times last night, with incessant and at times staggering fore-play in between each round. So understandably, after the last of their encounters for the night, Scorpius had fallen asleep almost instantaneously. It was a miracle he even managed to roll off Rose before blacking out. And then when he did black out, he had begun his amazing dream. Yes, Scorpius Malfoy was a very, very content young man.

So when he was woken by the unmistakable sound of someone apperating, Scorpius Malfoy was very displeased.

He was even more displeased when he realized that the space beside him where a certain red-haired minx should be sleeping was empty.

And he was _most_ displeased when he realized that all of Rose's clothing had been picked up from the floor, and the woman herself was nowhere in sight, leaving Scorpius to assume that it had been her that had left.

He tried not to panic. Surely there was perfectly justifiable reason for her to flee –no,_ depart__ – _so early.

At first he thought that she may have had to leave to go to work. But it was a Saturday, and not even Rose would go into work on a Saturday unless it was really important. And seeing as they had just finished up on their biggest case yet and she had been sure to file everything last night, he couldn't see that she would have anything urgent to do.

Maybe it was a Weasley-Potter thing that she needed to go to. That was entirely plausible. They were always meeting up and having their huge family gatherings and doing all that lovey, slightly sickening _bonding_ stuff. Yes, that was a completely realistic explanation.

Even if it was 4am.

Ok. Where the fuck was Rose?

She didn't get to do this. She didn't get to give him the best night of his life and then walk out (somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, there was an annoying little voice that commented about some completely unrelated news of a kettle somewhere being called black by a pot, but he ignored it). She didn't get to leave the bed cold and empty. And she definitely didn't get to regret this. And Scorpius knew Rose, and he knew she would be regretting this.

What Scorpius couldn't figure out was whether he should be regretting this too. He was finding it hard to feel guilty when his body still buzzed with a feeling that he decided to just call 'Rose', because it was something that only she did to him. But then he thought of the frightening possibility that he may never get to feel this way again if Rose decided it was a – _gulp_ – mistake, and hence would never want to do _it_ with him again.

No. There was no way that had been a mistake. He loved her (wow, he meant that didn't he?) and he was pretty sure she felt the same about him. And two people in love, both thoroughly unattached to anyone else, should _not_ feel guilty about spending the night together. Especially not after all the trouble he had gone through to woo her – he didn't get to have one amazing night of the best sex of his life and then for this to be over.

No. That was not happening.

Scorpius threw himself out of bed and hurried to his dresser. He was going to march over to her house right now and demand that she come back home and sleep in his bed again where she belonged this instant!

But maybe not like that. Rose was awfully opinionated after all, and had inherited her mother's sense of nobility and equality for all. She would hardly like him demanding she follow his orders. No, that wouldn't go down too well at all.

Scorpius tried to process his plan whilst pulling on some pants quickly. Let's see – how to convince Rose not to hex off his bollocks and come back to bed?

Right, well, knowing Rose, she'd be jumping to all kinds of conclusion now (why, he didn't know, but it just tended to be something she did. Case in point being the Herbology Function where she had immediately assumed they had slept together without any evidence of such occurrences – and after sleeping with Scorpius Malfoy, there was always evidence – apart from them being a little naked). And if she had left they couldn't be good conclusions she had been jumping to. So, first mission was to disprove any false conclusions she had come to. But to do that he needed to know what they were.

Ok, getting Rose back was going to be more difficult than originally anticipated.

He could always go and visit her. Yes, yes that was a brilliant idea! He'd apparate over there right now! But first he'd find a shirt. Or maybe just the tie she bought him. Now there's an idea…

No! He had to prove to her that he wanted her back not just for sex….he really had to stop thinking that word. It made him awfully distracted with visions and memories….

Focus! Right, where was he? Oh yes, a shirt. Right he needed to put on a shirt and apparate over to her apartment right now!

Where was her apartment? Oh hell he didn't even know where she lived. All this time spent chasing after her at work and he never once escorted her home?

Scorpius muttered a few choice words and ceased his search for a shirt. He thought of owlng her, but he doubted his owl would be able to figure out where she lived either. Stupid birds not being able to read her stupid mind.

Right, so, other options.

Ask Al for her address.

No. That was not a good idea, because he'd have to know _why_ and saying 'Well I need to return her panties that she just so happened to leave at my apartment last night after hours of fantastic sex which she is now apparently regretting, but I don't know where she lives', was probably _not_ going to get him very far. In fact he'd probably end up at St. Mungos after Albus would try to attack him and Scorpius would be forced to annihilate him. Then he'd get in all sorts of trouble for dueling, not to mention he probably wouldn't win many brownie points with Rose after putting her favourite relative in hospital. Ok, no going to Albus.

Or any other Potter/Wealsey for that matter. As gifted as he was, Scorpius highly doubted he could defend himself against Rose's parents (that Hermione Weasley could hex something deadly, whereas Ron would most likely just rip him limb from limb with his bare hands) or _the_ Harry Potter – he'd probably just look at Scorpius and he would explode. And that Ginny Potter – never underestimate the red heads (_especially_ when their last name is or ever was Weasley).

So he'd have to wait until Monday. That was alright; that would give him two whole days to prepare himself for whatever assault was undoubtedly planning presently. He decided to spend the next two days revising counterpoints to probable arguments as well as a few defensive spells and charms – what was that saying? _Hope __for __the __best __but __carry __an__ umbrella._ Yes, well, when one was going to lock horns Rose Weasley it was better to hope for the best but dress in amour. So amour he would have, in the form of spells and charms of course.

When Scorpius arrived on Monday morning, earlier than usual or necessary and going over incantation in his head, wands tightly grasped in his pocket just in case, he made sure to drop in to Rose's office first thing.

There was no one there. Not only was there no one there, but it didn't appear to have a note out of place. He thought it strange – Rose was tidy, but he was sure it didn't look this way last Friday. Although, admittedly, he wasn't taking much notice of it last week – his mind was on very different things. He proceeded on his way to his office, giving himself a little more time to go over his plan. When Scorpius arrived at his office he was most surprised at what he saw – it was tidy, impeccably so. And he knew for sure that he had definitely not left it in such a state. The chairs had all been placed in their rightful positions, the papers were assembled much nicer than he had every cared to stack them. It became apparent that Rose had been back, either extremely early this morning or over the weekend, and had covered their tracks. He might have thought it kind of her – that she was forward thinking enough take precautions so as not to get him into any kind of trouble with the higher-ups (especially seeing as a near-empty bottle of Firewhiskey surely would have been one of the items she would have had to discarded) – but he knew better than that. Rose had not cleaned up his office to protect him, rather she had done it to try and erase all evidence of them ever having slept together.

This was going to be the one thing in her life that Rose Weasley was going to fail. Scorpius was going to see to it.

He waited, doing very little at all during the morning, for her to arrive at her office. She never arrived. Upon asking one of the clerks whether she had seen Rose at all this morning, she answered that Rose was working off-site today.

_Off-site._

Well, if that's how she wanted to play then that's fine. She can't work off-site forever. At least that's what he thought, but once she had not yet returned by Wednesday he grew more than just a little anxious. What was most peculiar however, was how frequently Persephone Adams, a quiet brown-haired witch who had an office four down from his own, had passed by his door. For someone he had never noticed to leave her office very readily, Persephone surely was walking around an awful lot of late. In fact she would often walk past his office more than eight times a day. When this had carried on for a solid two days, Scorpius knew something was definitely off.

He had his suspicions that maybe Persephone was working for a certain flame-haired enigma – she was one of the few female witches on the floor who could most likely be trusted to be discreet. Unfortunately, it was painfully apparent the girl had never once been employed as a spy before, so she was somewhat lacking in subtlety when it came to checking in on him. She got there before him each morning (despite the fact that he was arriving a good 45 minutes before he was expected) and always waited for him to leave before departing herself. By the time it got to Friday evening, Scorpius had decided this little game had gone on long enough. He was going to speak to Rose, and he was going to do it tonight.

At approximately seven o'clock Friday evening, Scorpius threw his cloak over his arm, turned off the lights in his office and walked carefully and silently out into the main office area. He snuck along the hallway silently, being careful to watch for Persephone approaching again. He ducked into one of the cubicles and sat, crouched under the unoccupied desk in front of Rose's office and waited.

Really, this was ridiculous. If only his grandfather could see him now, sitting here, in a muggle suit, on a ground that had most likely not been cleaned in the past half century at least, under some clerk's desk, waiting for a chance to speak to a Weasley no less. Why the man would turn in his grave if he only had the decency to curl up and die already.

His introspection was halted when he saw Persephone sneakily pass his office across the floor again. Upon looking in and finding both he and his cloak gone, she quickly hurried back to her office. He listened as she sent out an owl. Not five minutes later, there was the unmistakable pop of someone apparating. He snuck a look out and watched as the light in Rose's office came on. She called out a quick thanks to Persephone, who promptly left, and sat at her desk to begin whatever work she had not been able to complete 'off-site'.

Let the games begin.

Going over the defensive spells once more in his head for good measure, Scorpius unfolded himself from under this insanely small desk, straightened his suit and strode towards her office quickly so as to be sure she wouldn't escape. He peered in and saw her diligently working, completely unaware of his presence. Good.

"You've been avoiding me," Scorpius said as he leant against her doorframe. Rose jumped, standing as she turned to see him, fear spreading through her eyes. She said nothing. It unnerved him. Almost as much as how she avoided looking him in the eye. He didn't like it.

"You –" she stuttered, clearly perplexed.

"Yes I hid from your little spy," he said with a smile, evidently most pleased with himself. She stayed silent and looked away from him, instead turning her attentions to the papers she had been shuffling on her desk.

"I must say," he said as he entered her office casually, hands in pockets, "I'm not accustomed to waking up alone after engaging in certain _activities._"

She took in a deep, unsteady breath and remained focused on the papers on her desk.

"I thought I'd save you the trouble of asking me to leave," she said quietly, something akin to bitterness ringing through her voice. He didn't like that either.

He walked towards her casually, trying not to notice how she edged away from him cautiously. He removed one of his hands from his pockets and placed it under her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

"What makes you think I wanted you to leave?" he asked lowly, looking her in the eye. But he didn't see what he had seen on Friday night. There had been no playful little glimmer, no lusty little look, and no dark unsheathed want. All that was there was sadness. And fear?

She held his gaze for a minute before looking back to the floor.

"Stop doing that," she murmured so quietly he barely heard.

"Stop doing what?" he whispered back still smiling despite worrying about where this was heading.

"Lying," she said with more conviction than before. Scorpius froze. Lying? When had he ever lied to her? He hadn't. He knew because he had tried, on several occasions, to lie to her. But he couldn't. When did she think he had lied?

"Lying?" he questioned, unable to keep the aggression out of his voice.

"I just said that, didn't I?" she questioned angrily, looking him in the eye before moving away to look at other things in her office. Scorpius moved back around the side of her desk, ensuring that to get out the door, she'd have to go past him. There was no way she was running from this.

"I'm confused," he said slowly.

"Well it doesn't take much," she retorted which much more conviction than he felt necessary.

"How very mature," he commented humorlessly.

"Oh like you can talk," she sneered over her shoulder and crossed her arms.

"Excuse me?" Scorpius raised an eyebrow and took a step forward. He didn't like how angry she was. It only made him angry too.

"You're acting like some horny, hormone-driven teenager – the way you discard girls like they're some worn out piece of clothing," she said, waving a hand at him as if she were disposing something, the anger clearly ringing in her words.

"A teenager?" at this he was truly intrigued, and insulted.

"Yes," she spat as she crossed her arms again, "It's pathetic."

"Pathetic?" his voice got a little higher as he got more sarcastic.

"Must you repeat everything?" she snapped, turning her back on him to rifle through a bookcase for absolutely nothing at all. Scorpius was angry – if anyone was acting childish it was she; it was like she was throwing a tantrum.

"As opposed to shutting out anyone that you actually enjoy spending time with," he said angrily as he crossed the space between them to be within a few feet of her, "That's not pathetic at all."

"I don't do that!" she spun to look at him, slightly startled by his nearness.

"Oh really?" he knew he sounded condescending but it was difficult to keep calm when she was acting so irrationally, "And how would you explain your current behavior?"

"I don't enjoy spending time with you," she spat hastily with malice.

"I think Friday night is contrary proof of that," a smirk found itself spread across his features. Rose simply rolled her eyes.

"Grow up Scorpius," she sounded like she was talking to an ignorant and troublesome child. Scorpius didn't like it at all.

"You're the one throwing the tantrum," he said pointedly.

"I am _not_ throwing a tantrum!" Rose stomped her foot indignantly and scowled at him in a manner which Scorpius found only the slightest bit adorable. He raised an eyebrow to save himself saying 'I told you so'. Rose just huffed at him and turned back towards the bookcase as a means to distract her.

"Just leave," she told him bitterly.

Not happening.

"Not before you tell me why you don't think I could make you happy," he challenged and moved closer in preparation for a fight.

"Because you're a liar," she replied shortly. They'd been over this already – it was tiring.

"When did I lie to you?" he demanded, sounding a little more aggressive then he meant.

"Friday."

"When?"

"When you said…"

She caught herself and retracted a bit, internally berating herself apparently. She took a small step back and crossed her arms.

"…Yes?" he urged, taking a step forward for the one she took back.

"When you _insinuated,_" she said harshly before her tone softened slightly, "that you loved me."

"I do."

"No you don't."

"Really?" Scorpius might have found this whole banter quite amusing and a little sexy, had he not been so infuriated.

"Yes."

She was every bit as determined to convince him that he wasn't in love as he was to convince her he was. This was going to take a long time to resolve.

"And what makes you so sure?" he asked indignantly.

"The things you do."

"Be specific Weasley." She glared at the use of her last name, letting out a deep breath in an audible 'huff'. He watched as she squared her shoulders and threw her hair over her shoulders – here it came.

"First of all, you didn't even bother undressing me before fucking me against your lounge room wall Malfoy and if you expect me –"

"Hey!" Scorpius interrupted and pointed his finger at her somewhat indignantly, "I seem to remember you being more than a willing participant in that – I recall you _begging_ in fact, _begging_ for me to take you right then and there."

"Don't take that tone with me!" Rose screeched and put her hands on her hips.

"Don't tell me I'm wrong about my own feelings!" he yelled back, to which she just rolled her eyes and gave a chortle.

"Oh please! You don't have sex with the woman you love, and then proceed to roll over and go to sleep without so much as a 'good-night' let alone a cuddle!"

He knew he shouldn't but he really couldn't help it. Scorpius let out a snort and raised an eyebrow at her, arrogance painting it's way across his every pore.

"Are you serious?" he asked with a smirk. This had obviously been an unwise approach as steam very nearly spurted from Rose's ears.

"Don't mock me Malfoy," she said in a deathly low tone that would have had him running scared had he not been so thoroughly pissed off at her.

"I told you I loved you," he said with a tone that suggested he was much more confident in himself than the reality.

"No you didn't."

"I love you – there, happy?"

She faltered slightly before crossing her arms, shaking her head and turning to the side so as to avoid looking at him.

"That doesn't prove anything," she said, still facing away from him.

"Doesn't prove anything?" he repeated her phrase and threw his arms in the arm to release the furious tension flooding his body as he raised his voice, "So I can flat out tell you I love you, but because I don't have the clarity to remove your clothes before taking you like I have dreamt of for the past eight months, or the energy to _cuddle_ after we engage in hours of mind-blowing sex, it suddenly means I didn't mean it? Does nothing else that I did matter?"

"You haven't done anything else!" she exclaimed as she turned to face him front on, her voice cracking slightly as struggled to keep her emotions in check. Scorpius simply stared at her, utterly dumbfounded and with a blank expression on his face. _Haven__'__t__ done __anything__ else?_

"Are you serious?" he asked his voice and face free of any form of emotion. Rose simply took a deep breath an crossed her arms (again)

"You didn't show any interest until we were both drunk."

"No interest -!" he exclaimed before mumbling something under his breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He twisted and turned a bit, still muttered and taking deep, calming breaths before looking back at her.

"Look at what am wearing!" he said, signaling to his attire, "Are you saying that _this_ means nothing?"

Rose looked at his fine grey three piece suit with crisp white shirt. She didn't look impressed.

"It's a suit," she said plainly.

"Exactly," Scorpius nodded with a smile. She simply frowned at him, thoroughly confused.

"You're not making sense."

"It's a suit Rose."

"I just said that," she was getting angry again, he needed to diffuse the Rose-Bomb before it exploded and tore him to shreds. But surely she had noticed.

"A _Muggle_ suit," he added, hoping to get his point across. He didn't.

"So?"

"_So_," he paused and when he noticed she wasn't going to say anything he continued, "Malfoys don't wear Muggle suits. Malfoys don't own anything Muggle."

She simply crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. Oh he hated when she did that.

"Your point being?"

"I bought this," he said simply, playing with the cuff of his suit and looking at it instead of Rose, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious, "I went out to some little Muggle part of London and was fitted for four different Muggle suits so I could wear that neck rope you got me for my birthday."

"The tie?"

"Yes."

She took a moment to process the information.

"You bought four tailor-made suits," she looked at him and he liked the way her voice was no longer bitter or scathing, "just so you could wear the tie?"

"Yes," he nodded and looked down at his attire, "Before I started to fancy you I owned one item of Muggle clothing and that was a sports shoe I stole from Albus in fourth year. I now own four suits, four business shirts, four waistcoats, two pairs of Muggle shoes and quite a fine hat, all of which match the tie you gave me perfectly. And all because it was _you_ that gave me the tie."

She was silent, the foot tapping discontinued (thank Merlin!)

"You didn't even buy another tie?" she asked softly.

"No, why should I?" Scorpius looked back at her, "I hate ties – always have, all through Hogwarts. The only reason I wear these damned uncomfortable things is so I can show you, and everyone else, that I'm wearing the tie that you gave me. I have absolutely no use for another."

She looked to the floor silently.

"Oh," was all she said when she finally did speak.

"_Oh_ is right," he replied, still a little angry about being accused of being such an arse to her, and it came through in his tone, "And that's not even where it ends!"

"It's not?" she sounded truly surprised, looking back to him slightly shocked.

"No!" Scorpius began to pace in front of her as he recalled all his _endeavors_, "Have you seriously not noticed how frequently I visit your office? I don't just owl you, I actually get up and walk the whole way across the floor to come and see you at least once a day. It doesn't sound like much, but I have never made the effort for anyone else in the office. I don't even make that effort with the Minister most days."

She nodded softly, apparently thinking that's where it ended. She was wrong.

"And the lunches!" he continued, catching her by surprise, "I never eat a meal with a woman. _Ever_. A coffee or a Firewhiskey is the closest it gets. But I have had lunch with you almost every second day for the past four months.

"You also didn't ever consider that maybe the reason I didn't bother removing your clothes before having you last Friday was because I had been picturing you in my apartment and in my arms for so fucking long that when you finally were I just lost control? That just the sight of you is enough to undo me?

"And the rose! How bloody obvious does a man have to be? Not only have I been shamelessly flirting with you at every opportunity I get, but I bought you a damned rose on Valentine's Day. I even got the closest shade to your hair as I could find."

Rose played with the edge of her sleeve and looked remarkably sheepish.

"I thought you were just joking," she said in a voice so soft he barely heard it over his own ragged breaths.

"You really are daft for someone so smart, you know that right?" he crossed his arms and stopped pacing, "It's not that I haven't done anything, it's just been you that's been too bloody blind to notice."

She was silent for a moment longer before murmuring.

"Oh."

"Yes. _Oh,__"_ Scorpius nodded in agreement still buzzing with adrenaline and the remnants of anger after their argument, _"_And it hasn't been easy either, may I add. I have been doing everything I know how to do, and several things I have no clue about, to try and get your attention. Because you have mine constantly."

He hadn't noticed himself move, he just appeared to be drawn into her. It wasn't until he felt her face in his hand that he even realized what he was doing.

"I have gone to great lengths to convince you I love you, Rose," he murmured, looking in her big blue eyes that seemed both a little scared an a little awed, "you're just too bloody stubborn to notice."

Rose opened her mouth to say something when he cut her off.

"Don't even think about saying 'oh' again, Rose," he said quickly, watching as she shut her mouth and looked a little confused.

"I don't know what else to say," she defended softly. He simply smiled and caressed her cheek with his thumb lazily.

"That's quite disheartening seeing as I told you I loved you."

He watched the most beautiful smile he thought he'd ever seen fill her face.

"I love you too," she said sincerely and happily. Scorpius smiled again began leaning closer to her face.

"That'll do."

He closed his eyes and kissed her softly. It was as if they had all the time in the world – like this was all they had to do and nothing else around them or outside of this mattered.

She pulled back and shuffled uncomfortably – obviously there was something on her mind.

"And you're," she stopped and played with the edge of her sleeve again. Scorpius swore to Merlin, if she still wasn't convinced he was just going to take her hostage in his apartment and refuse to ever let her leave until she recognized that he was serious. And even then, he might hold her hostage a little longer.

"You're not just saying all this so things won't be awkward between you and Albus, with me being his cousin and all?" she asked softly before adding erratically, "Because if that is the reason that's fine, things can just go back to –"

He placed a finger on her lips, which caused her eyes, which had been focused on the floor, to return to his own.

"Trust me," he smiled sincerely as he lay her troubles to rest, "Things between me and Albus have been _awkward_ since he walked in on us at the Christmas Party – the insidious prick wolf whistles or winks whenever I mention your name. It's infuriating. In fact I think this will actually relieve the awkward-ness."

She smiled a little but it faded and she looked back at the floor. Scorpius tilted her chin up so her gaze met his again and silently asked her to continue. She bit her lip and took a deep breath, clearly unsettled.

"And you don't," she faltered and he watched as she internally willed herself to continue, "You don't think of me as just some 'easy' one night stand?"

He barked out a laugh in her face. He threw his head back and laughed fully before looking back to find her looking at him angrily.

"Rose!" he placed both his hands on her shoulders and smiled as he spoke, "It took me eight months of shameless flirting, somewhere around two thousand galleons worth of muggle wardrobe, well over 100 lunch dates, a very expensive bottle of Ogdon's finest, and an incredibly embarrassing display of affection on Valentine's Day for me to finally get you in my bed for _one _night. _Nothing_ about wooing you has been 'easy'."

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him again with a smile just as infectious as the last. After several pressure moments of just enjoying the feeling of having Rose back in his arms and kissing him again, he felt her pull back. He opened his eyes to see her giving him a smile that was conspicuously more sinister than any he had ever seen before. She took hold of his tie and started to walk back slowly towards the desk, pulling him with her.

"You know that dream of yours you told me about?" she asked, looking up through her eyelashes, "About us arguing…"

Scorpius smirked – he liked where this was going.

"Yes…" he placed his hands on her hips as he followed her lead towards the desk.

"Well, we just had quite an argument then," she looked up at him with a sultry smile playing on her lips. He found his pants got a little bit tighter.

"That we did…" he agreed and kept every fiber in his body from acting against its instincts to rip her clothes from her body.

"And there is a desk. Right. Here," her butt finally met with the edge of the desk. She bit her lip and smirked at him.

"That there is…" he placed his hands either side of her on the desk behind her and leaned a little closer.

"I'm just saying," she shrugged nonchalantly, "You appear to have all the resources to make a certain little dream of yours a reality."

Scorpius smirked and took a deep breath to try and calm his racing pulse.

"Why, Miss. Weasley! Are you suggesting that I…" he suddenly took a firm hold of her hips and lifted her onto the desk, "Take you…" with a flick of her wand, Rose sent all the random stationary that had been on her desk flying to the ground, "Right here?"

He stood between her legs and pulled her hips against his own, making sure she got a good indication of what she was doing to his body.

"The thought had crossed my mind," she admitted playfully, her voice breathy and her breathing heavy.

"Well I guess I could take off your skirt," he unzipped her skirt at the side whilst leaning forward, forcing her to lie back against the desk. She hummed a response that sounded strangely like a moan. He slid the skirt off her legs and dropped in onto the floor. His gaze found her eyes as his finger meandered their way towards the buttons at the top of her shirt. He placed his mouth next to her ear and kissed her neck lightly before whispering to her.

"And I could unbutton your blouse," his fingers ghosted over her skin as he undid each button very slowly. She had closed her eyes and was pushing her chest forward in an effort to come into greater contact with his fingers, but her simply pulled back and slowed down a little more. He knew he was torturing her but, as far as Scorpius was concerned, she deserved it. After the best night of sex of his life, being forced to wait this long without so much as _looking_ at her, he felt himself completely within his rights to get Rose back. He moved his face to the other side of her head, to her other ear, when he kissed her softly again. He finished unbuttoning her blouse and let it flop open, exposing her body underneath. He snuck a quick peak and noticed that she was wearing matching undies and bra again – this time it was a baby blue duo with white lace. He mentally made a note to find out where Rose bought her underwear and send them a thank-you basket. Really, they were enriching his life.

"And then I could always take off your underwear," his fingertips grazed up the sides of her thighs leisurely before they came to rest on the waistband of her panties. He kissed her neck again as his finger tips hooked under her panties, reveling in the fact that Rose was practically panting beneath him.

Excellent.

He moved his mouth back to her ear before murmuring to her.

"But I won't."

He pulled back with a cheeky smile, loosing all contact to Rose, and watched as her eyes shot open angrily. She glared at him incredulously.

"What?" she exclaimed, coming up to rest on her elbows behind her as she continued to glower at him. The only change this forced was for Scorpius' smirk to grow a little wider as he looked down at the flushed and bother woman on the desk.

"I'm not going to screw you on this desk, Rose," he shrugged.

"Why not?" she demanded, her voice a little higher than normal due to unresolved sexual tension coursing through her body. Brilliant.

"Because people in love don't have sleazy, quick office sex."

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow at his sudden chivalrous turn.

"They don't?"

"No," he bent forward again, resting his forehead against hers as his hand found its way to rest on her hips and draw teasing patterns on her exposed skin as he whispered, "They have mad, passionate, night-long sex in every room of their house."

Her eyes darkened and he saw that gleam he had first witnessed last Friday return. This was all kinds of promising.

"Your place or mine?" she panted, eyes still locked fiercely on his.

"I have a rather fantastic pair of purple and black lace panties at my house which belong to you," he pulled her up into a sitting position before pulling her hips to meet his own again, "Not to mention I want you in my bed again, but this time I expect you'll still be there when I awaken."

She pushed him back and leapt deftly from the desk, picking up her skirt from the floor as she walked towards the fireplace, a distinctive and deliberate sway in her strut. She grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped into the fire, watching as Scorpius furiously tried to undo his tie and take off his shoes simultaneously.

"You're gunna have to give me a good reason to stay for the morning," she winked before saying his address and disappearing in a puff of green smoke. Scorpius simply smirked and hurried towards the fireplace from which she had just disappeared.

"Minx."

* * *

><p>He felt the body beside him let out a heavy sigh and move a little against him. Never in his entire life, had Scorpius ever imagined that waking up covered and boarder-line suffocating in hair would feel so incredibly satisfying.<p>

He wrapped his arm tighter around the body attempting to retreat and pulled it back against his chest. He was rewarded with a startled squeak and another face full of _red_.

"Don't think that I'm going to let you leave me here by myself ever again Rose Weasley," Scorpius murmured in a voice that was husky from sleep as his hand began to move in slow patterns on her stomach.

"But my breath smells," Rose argued half-heartedly, caught up in the feel of his hand massaging her stomach.

"I don't care," he murmured seductively as he kissed the back of her neck and continued with his wandering hand, which was steadily moving higher.

"I look awful," she pleaded, closing her eyes again as his fingers drew patterns on her ribs.

"Impossible," he murmured against her skin, continuing to kiss her neck and back and slowly making his way towards her shoulder.

"I feel gross," her head lolled back to allow his greater access to her neck.

"Mmmhhh?" when his hand finally reached her breast he kneaded it gently, rewarded with a reasonably unceremonious gasp, "I'd have to disagree with you there."

"Scorpius…." She moaned and pushed her hips a little further back into his, pressed her chest into his hand as he continued to tease her with his mouth and hands.

"Yes…?" he replied, smiling as his lips found a particularly tender spot on her neck. She gasped again.

"I have to," she paused and swallowed audibly before letting out a soft moan when his finger found her nipple, "…have…breakfast."

"Couldn't agree with you more."

In one surprisingly swift motion, he rolled her onto her back and straddled her, pinning her arms next to her head as he kissed her thoroughly on the mouth. She groaned into his mouth and pushed her hips up into his, causing him to release a growl.

They continued languidly kissing and grinding in bed for several for minutes. Just as Scorpius had released her arms and felt her shift her legs from out under him so she could wrap them around his waist, both their breaths hitching as they felt certain areas of their bodies come closer to their desired destination, there was a sound that would haunt them both.

The floo roared to life. Someone was here. They both froze and listened for the visitor to identify themselves.

"Scorpius!" the unmistakable sound of Albus Severus Potter's voice came booming through from the lounge, "Get your sorry arse out of bed right now!"

Fucking Albus Fucking Potter was going to fucking die.

"That's it!" Scorpius said through gritted teeth looking over to his side table angrily, "I'm going to Avada his arse – where's my wand?"

"Scorpius!" Rose warned quietly, her arms still wrapped around his shoulders. He looked back down at her unimpressed expression and sighed defeatedly.

"Fine, no Avada-ing," he looked back to his table in an attempt to locate his blasted wand, "But I swear to Merlin if he thinks he is leaving here with anything less than a mighty powerful bat-bogey hex he is _sadly_ mistaken!"

"Scorpiu – whoa!" The doors to Scorpius' bedroom flew open to reveal Albus Potter, looking thoroughly embarrassed. He turned suddenly and shielded his eyes, "Didn't mean to walk in on you.."

Scorpius shot him a glare over his shoulder (which Albus missed because he was very consciously _not_ looking at Scorpius or his lady friend).

"That could have been avoided if you had _knocked_!" he said through gritted teeth again.

"Sorry Scorpius," Albus cringed, still shielding his eyes but not leaving, "And Scorpius' lady friend…"

After a moment, something seemed to click in Albus' head. Scorpius watched as the cogs turned painfully slowly in his friend's head.

"Scorpius' lady friend?" he heard him murmur, "Who is here? In the morning? What the-?"

Albus turned and saw Rose peak her head out over the top of Scorpius' shoulder and give a weak smile and a little wave.

"Hi Albi…" her face glowed as red as her hair. Albus' eyes grew to the size of dinner plates, Scorpius was sure, before he finally managed to make any sound.

"ROSE!"

"Yes Rose, now get the fuck out!" Scorpius shot him another glare as his voice raised slightly.

"But how? I mean wha-" the poor boy just couldn't get his head around it, "What are you doing?"

"Snogging, as a prelude to shagging, now if you don't mind," Scorpius answered bluntly, and was slapped on the arm by Rose in return.

"Well I could see that!" Albus exclaimed, face flushed and looking equally embarrassed and confused, "Would someone like to explain?"

Rose nudged Scorpius and nodded her head towards his side of the bed. He groaned angrily and detangled their limbs (thankfully without any _areas_ being exposed in the process). He sat bare chested with the blankets covering his waist down, arms crossed and eyes glaring at Albus furiously. Stupid prat. First he broke up their cuddling now _this!_ The boy was going to pay through the nose. Maybe a nice dose of vomiting slugs would teach him to keep his fucking nose out of other people's fucking business. Talk about a cock-block. Rose had adjusted the sheets so she was covered from her collar bones down, also sitting up, as she tried to adjust her hair. Yeah, as if the state of her _hair_ had given them away.

"Well you see…there….um…" she began to trip over her words and stutter, "There is a perfectly justifiable excuse for…ah…this…"

"No! No there's bloody not!" Scorpius interrupted, looking between Rose and Albus as he began to shout, "Because we don't need a fucking excuse! We're a _couple_ – and couples shag. No excuses, just plain old fact!"

Albus's eyebrows shot so high they also became part of his hair line.

"You're a _couple_?" he asked, completely confused.

Idiot.

"Yes, we're a fucking couple!" Scorpius threw his arms in the air and pointed at the black-haired boy in front of him, "You are unbelievable, you know that? You're the one whose been telling me to get my act together with Rose since Christmas and now that I do you expect an explanation?"

There was another beat of silence as the three of them stayed silent.

"Seriously?" Albus said, still not convinced, "A couple?"

"For Merlin's sake!" Scorpius exclaimed angrily and tried his best to keep all matter of other less tasteful but equally effective phrases to himself, "Yes – we finish each other's crosswords, hold hands walking down the street, and all that other romantic, 'togetherness' crap. And, on the odd occasion that one ALBUS POTTER does not interrupt, we cuddle and we shag!"

The room fell into a most uncomfortable silence again as the three of them stared at each other. Scorpius glanced at an oddly quiet Rose beside him to find her beaming at him so adorably he couldn't stand to be angry anymore. He was going to have hot morning sex and he was going to have it _now._

He looked back at Albus while he shuffled a little closer to Rose, taking her hand and tugging her closer to him.

"I'm giving you 30 seconds to get out of my apartment before we continue what we started before you interrupted us," he warned, catching the gleam returning to Rose's eyes beside him.

Albus looked at him with the most ridiculous smirk on his features. Was he really going to try and call his bluff? Because Scorpius wasn't fussed – his need to have intensely mind-blowing sex with Rose far out-weighed his embarrassment to be caught doing so by her cousin. Besides, Albus couldn't pull off the smirk. He looked too much like a lost puppy to pull of 'sexy arrogance'.

Still, it was annoying that he kept looking at him like that.

"You are _so_ whipped," he finally said smugly. Oh that was it. Dead. The bastard was DEAD.

"ALBUS!" he bellowed, feeling his eye begin to twitch.

"Going!"

And with that, Albus Potter apparated out of his apartment_. _His words, however, remained floating around in Scorpius' head. He wasn't whipped. Malfoys do not get _whipped_. And certainly not Scorpius.

No. He was in control of the situation.

The fact that he had been chasing after Rose for the past eight months had absolutely nothing to do with it. He wasn't whipped. He _wasn__'__t_.

Stupid Rat Bastard.

Rose's voice interrupted his introspection.

"I've never finished your crossword," she said softly, the smile still on her features. He hoped she didn't think he was whipped. Because he wasn't.

"A copy of the Prophet gets delivered every morning," he said without looking at her, "We'll start that habit today."

He was _not _whipped. No. No, no, no. Definitely not. He felt Rose sigh next to him and begin to talk.

"You know I was serious about needing a shower," she said conversationally.

"Fine," Scorpius shrugged, he didn't really feel like crazy morning sex after what Albus had said. Stupid prat, "The ensuite is just through there. Spare towels are under the sink."

"Ok," she nodded and slid out of bed, one of the top blankets clutched to her. She took a few steps towards the bathroom before turning back and looking at him.

"I'm an excellent multi-tasker," she said simply.

Random. Why did she need to bring up her-

She was smirking. Rose was smirking and had _that_ look in her eyes again. This could only mean good news.

Suddenly Scorpius felt very much in the mood for crazy morning sex.

"Is that so?" he asked, subtly moving to the edge of the bed and beginning to climb out himself.

"Yep," she turned around and continued on her way towards the bathroom, "I can shower and have _breakfast_ at the same time."

It was official – Rose Weasley was a fucking goddess. And she was _his._ And that meant no more excuses for spending time with her. No more explaining his strange behaviour. No more dumb reasons as to why he couldn't take a girl on a date. No more justifications. Because she was _his_. They were each other's. And that the only excuse either of them needed.

He stood and watched her continue towards the bathroom, slowly coming around the other side of the bed to be closer to her.

"I'll believe it when I see it Weasley," he challenged. She didn't even look back over her shoulder. She simply dropped the blanket and left Scorpius to watch her naked arse retreating into the bathroom.

"I'm not stopping you Malfoy…"

* * *

><p><em>Well there we go! The end! I hope it finished justly and that it didn't get too fluffy for anyone. I find it hard to write people saying 'I love you' without it sounding totally sappy and horrid, so I tried to lighten it up with the reappearance of Albus. Anyways, I'll stop rambling. I'm a little sad to be saying good-bye to this one, but at the same time I'm glad its finished now – a weight is now off my shoulders haha. <em>

_Please, please, PLEASE review. I would most sincerely love to hear it, and it may tempt me to write some more Scorpius/Rose stuff (or dissuade me if you hate it). _

_Until next time,_

_Grae xo_


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